Blood Magic
by Parmelesse
Summary: Merlin tries a magical remedy for the pain of unrequited love, but at what cost?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

I wouldn't call this story an alternate universe story, but I haven't gone to great lengths to couch it in the established storyline, either. It's just one of those plot bunnies that took on a life of its own. Although I made a few choices to keep the story from blatantly contradicting the show, by and large, I decided to let the story develop however it wanted and not worry about how it deviated from canon. If you really, really need to know when the story takes place, you'll have to be happy with this: Sometime during Series 2 or 3. Morgana has left Camelot, Uther is still king, Arthur hasn't shown any serious interest in Gwen, and Camelot is enjoying a more or less peaceful and happy period. I'm not sure if all these elements ever coincide in the series, but I'm taking a little artistic license. I hope you don't mind.

I'm giving this story a 'Mature' rating because of an M/M relationship. If that's not your thing, you have been warned.

* * *

**Prologue**

The fog that rolled off the lake was just beginning to burn away in the morning sun when a lorry grumbled up the road, its noisy engine shattering the silence of the morning. As it drove away into the distance, a sharp voice cut through the mist. "That's another thing: the internal combustion engine. Bah! I never should have helped that American. What was his name? Ford, yes. The Professor had it right when he accused me of giving the world the 'infernal' combustion engine." The voice belonged to an old man in a scruffy blue coat leaning against the fence that bordered the road. From beneath his even scruffier blue cap burst a mane of untamed white hair nearly as long as his tangled beard. The man gazed out across the water of the lake to an old stone tower that stood alone on an island in the middle of the lake. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time—it really did, but look what they've done with it." With his free hand, he gestured to a tabloid held in his other hand. The front page showed tanks rolling across a fence, crushing it beneath their treads—the latest action in the latest world conflict. "Every time I try to help these people…" He trailed off into silence for a moment.

"I know, I know…I'm talking like I'm not one of them again. It's just that they're so young. So, _so_ young! They don't understand what they're about, and they forget so quickly." His sour mien faded at the recollection of something more pleasant. "They remember you, though; somehow they've managed to remember you. Oh, most people don't really believe in you, but they remember what you did all the same. They tell their children about you and say, 'Now, Arthur, he was a great king.' Maybe someday they'll start remembering it after they're grown.

"You wouldn't believe how much of the story they get wrong. Every generation changes your story just a little bit." Another pause. "Fine, _our_ story. Before long, nothing will be left of the real thing. I suppose that's the power of myth; we still connect to it and find meaning in it no matter how much time passes." He flipped through the paper, making disapproving noises at nearly everything he saw. Sighing deeply, he folded the paper and put it away in the pack that hung at his side. "Every time that I think we must have reached our hour of greatest need, that you will finally return, somehow we manage to keep going on our own. We even have a word for it, the end of the world, I mean: Apocalypse. We use it as a synonym for the end of the world, but do you know what it actually means? It's from a Greek word, _apokalyptein_. It means 'to reveal.' Fitting, since the apocalypse will reveal you to the world." Very quietly he continued wistfully, "Is it absolutely horrible if I wish that whatever tragedy will bring you back to us—to me—would hurry up and happen?"

Nothing but silence could be heard from the lake. Merlin sighed again. "Oh, my love, I wish you would come back to me; there are days when I'm not sure how to go on without you." He stopped and chuckled to himself. "As I recall, I once felt almost exactly the opposite." His expression became distant as he began to lose himself in memories long past. "I nearly destroyed us, didn't I? Now, how was it that you managed to sort me out…?"


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Dim starlight barely provided enough illumination for Merlin to see what he was doing as he chalked a circle on the stone around himself, but he didn't dare even to light a torch, much less call up a magical light. He was on the flat top of a rocky promontory not far from Camelot and a light could be seen far too easily if someone happened to glance out of a tower window. Although Merlin disliked working magic so openly in such an exposed place, he couldn't wait any longer to do this—it had to be done tonight, before it was too late. Even now he barely had the will to finish.

The lump of chalk barely weighed more than a feather, yet it seemed to take all his strength to drag it around the circle. Reaching up to his neck, Merlin undid his neckerchief and used it to mop the sweat off his brow before he began chalking runes around the edge of the circle. He wished he weren't doing this alone. He hadn't dared even tell Gaius what he planned. It was too dangerous; Gaius would have been upset with him for considering it. _No, that's not it, really,_ he thought. _Gaius would've talked me out of it; that's really why I didn't tell him._ It was true. If Gaius had tried to talk him out of this, Merlin knew he would have succeeded. But Gaius couldn't understand. He would have been kind and compassionate and tried to help Merlin, but he wouldn't have understood.

The chalk slipped in Merlin's hand and he nearly fell onto his face. He broke his fall with his hands, and they hit the rock hard. Merlin winced at the pain; his right hand had struck something sharp but he was too exhausted right now to care. He hadn't realized how heavily he had been leaning onto the chalk. Sighing, he picked up the small lump and began to write once more. The runes began to turn pink as blood ran from his hand down the chalk. _I thought it was difficult being a warlock in the court of Camelot. That was nothing compared to being in love with Camelot's prince._ Being so close to Arthur, every day, and unable to tell him anything about how he felt—it was torture. In the time since Merlin had met Arthur, the prince had come to mean more to him his own life. Merlin couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't bear being apart from Arthur.

Today had been the breaking point. Merlin had spent hours in his bed trying unsuccessfully to get a few precious minutes of sleep. As ever, when he tried to sleep, thoughts of Arthur filled his mind and kept him awake long into the night. Unable to sleep, he had found himself wandering the deserted corridors of Camelot in the wee hours of the morning. He hadn't meant to go anywhere in particular but somehow he'd wound up standing outside the door to Arthur's bedchambers. Merlin stood for a moment, staring at the wooden planks, imagining his beloved on the other side. He put his hand on the door. It had been worn to a smooth polish by time and countless hands. Gently he laid his cheek against the door and spoke quietly, so quietly he wasn't sure if he spoke the words or simply thought them, "Oh, Arthur, I can't do this." A tear slid down his cheek and Merlin dropped to his knees.

He hadn't even realized his eyes had closed but he must have fallen asleep leaning against the door. The next thing he knew, he had tumbled into Arthur's chambers when the door was unexpectedly opened. He awoke with a start as his head hit something hard and knobby. The morning sun was streaming in through a window. He tried to get his brain to wake up and start telling his body what to do, but his sleep-clouded mind was far more interested in the way the sun made the hair on Arthur's calves look like it was made of pure gold. With excruciating slowness, Merlin's brain processed the fact that if he was staring at Arthur's calves, the hard, bony thing his head had struck must have been Arthur's knee. Merlin turned his head upwards and saw Arthur staring down at him. Arthur was dressed very casually in brown shorts and a cotton shirt. By the sun, Merlin judged it was nearly half-an-hour past when he should have arrived to help Arthur dress, so Arthur had probably been coming to find Merlin. Annoyance, humour, and pure confusion struggled for dominance on Arthur's face. Confusion won, but annoyance made a valiant effort for recognition.

"Merlin! What are you doing!?"

Merlin scrambled to his feet, trying to retain whatever scraps of dignity he had left. When he realized that all he was wearing were his small clothes and a night shirt, he decided there was no dignity to be salvaged. Arthur's eyebrows rose even higher, indicating he was still waiting for an answer. Merlin tried to think quickly. It was difficult so soon after waking.

"Uh, thieves."

"Thieves?" Disbelief oozed from the word. "What about thieves?"

"Gwen said some food has been disappearing from the kitchen." That much, at least, was true. More than likely one of the servants had come on hard times and taken a bit for their family. Even Merlin had filched some food once or twice when Gaius didn't have much work. No one took disappearing food very seriously or devoted many resources to investigating it. "I was worried they might try to, um, pilfer your belongings."

Arthur's confused expression turned into a frown. "You thought common kitchen thieves would try to break into the bedchambers of Camelot's crown prince?" Merlin didn't say anything. "So you decided to sleep outside my door to make sure no one broke in?" Merlin nodded. Arthur turned his back to Merlin and clasped his hands behind him. Silence ensued. Finally, Arthur sighed, "What am I to do with you, Merlin?"

Merlin decided to push his luck. "Commend my diligence?"

Arthur walked to the window and looked down at the courtyard. "Merlin, if there were any danger to my person, I assure you that Father would have guards at my door. Guards with weapons and," he turned around and eyed Merlin up and down, "clothes." Merlin looked down at the floor, not daring to meet Arthur's gaze and hoping the blush threatening to break out on his cheeks would wait until after he was out of Arthur's view. Arthur waved him out, adding, in a voice tinged with exasperation, "Go get dressed; I can dress myself this morning."

"Yes, Arthur." Merlin nearly fainted with relief.

He was almost out of the door when Arthur added, "Oh, and Merlin?"

Merlin stopped and turned around.

"The stables need a good mucking out, Merlin." Arthur smirked. "Perhaps you can keep an eye out for the thieves while you're at it."

Merlin was too relieved even to complain. He simply nodded before escaping back to his room in Gaius' tower. All the time Merlin was mucking out the stables, he mentally berated himself for being so foolish. By the time he had finished he knew that he couldn't go on this way; something had to be done before he made an unforgiveable blunder. As soon as he got cleaned up, he locked himself in his room and started going through his book of spells. After hours of fruitless searching, he had finally found something that looked like it might help.

He finished the last stroke on the last rune around the circle and threw the chalk away. It bounced on the stone and fell over the edge of the cliff. Lightning flashed across the sky between clouds that hadn't been there before. A storm was coming. Others might have seen it as an ominous sign, but Merlin knew better. He was trying to change the fabric of nature; there would be side effects. In a way, every time he used magic he was changing nature. But there were changes, and then there were Changes.

Merlin knelt in the middle of the circle to prepare the spell. Air beat against him in sharp gusts. He knew it was no wind that made the air move like that. He felt hot breath on his neck. "You are meddling in things you do not understand, young warlock."

Merlin didn't even turn to look at the Great Dragon when he shouted, "What would you know of love, Kilgharrah? You've been alone for so long, obsessed with revenge and filled with hatred for Uther and Camelot, that you've lost all ability to love!"

"That is not true, Emrys. A wise sage once said, 'Hate is love with its back turned.' "

"Don't waste my time with riddles."

"It means that love and hate have much more in common than you are willing to admit. Hate requires the same passion and fire needed for love. They are not mutually exclusive. I know what it is to desire something so fervently that it consumes you. It takes strength to face so fierce a passion, but face it you must."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I do **not** have to face it. I found another way."

"No emotion exists alone. Your mind is infinitely complex; your soul is the sum of everything in you. You cannot simply seal away your ability to love and expect to remain unchanged."

"Everything comes at a price; I know that. Any price is worth ending this torment."

"Emrys—"

When Merlin spun to face the dragon, his face was a mask of rage. "ANY PRICE!" For a moment Merlin thought he would have to order the dragon to leave, but Kilgharrah broke their gaze and spread his wings. Without saying anything he leapt off the mountainside and spiralled down toward the forest floor. Merlin knelt and began to chant. He felt a heat in his eyes as the ancient words rolled off his tongue.

"_Selio fy enaid. Llosgi fy nghalon. Yn fy amddiffyn rhag niwed. Cadw fi rhag dristwch."_

The words were in a language so ancient, no one lived who knew what the words meant. Nevertheless, as Merlin repeated the syllables a second time, he felt their meaning as surely as he knew his own name.

"Seal my heart. Sear my soul. Protect me from pain. Keep me from sorrow."

After finishing his spell, Merlin would never have to feel the pain of heartache again. The circle began to glow. Merlin felt a burning in his chest. He fumbled with the strings of his tunic as he tore it off his body. In the centre of his chest, where his heart lay, a white light shone from his skin. One last time he repeated his chant.

"_Selio fy enaid. Llosgi fy nghalon. Yn fy amddiffyn rhag niwed. Cadw fi rhag dristwch."_

Merlin's body rose from the circle until he hung in the air, limbs hanging limply from his body. The light in his chest grew brighter until it blinded him. As the light grew brighter, the burning in his chest grew stronger as well. Merlin cried out as the burning ran through him, "**_SELIO FY ENAID!_**"

The light went out.

- x - x - x - x - x -

Thunder crashed outside the open window, making Arthur jump. He mentally chided himself for being so silly. "Good thing Merlin wasn't around to see that," he mumbled to himself, "wouldn't let me forget it for ages." Except that right now, he might not even notice. Lately Merlin seemed to be so tired he was practically sleepwalking even during the day. It worried Arthur. And being worried annoyed Arthur. Being worried about Merlin especially annoyed Arthur. Granted, Merlin had proven himself capable enough in his own charmingly clumsy way, but it was his job to look after Arthur not the other way 'round.

Arthur turned in his bed and tried to put Merlin out of his head and go to sleep. Unsuccessfully. "He's a servant," he muttered. "A prince can't afford to get upset every time one of his subjects has trouble sleeping." _No matter how adorable he looks._ The thought flew across his mind before he knew it was there. A frown creased the royal brow. "No…I mean pitiful…no matter how pitiful he looks."

_Right, he's just a servant, nothing more._

"Right."

_That's why you're talking to yourself in the middle of the night when you should be sleeping. Yeah, he's definitely nothing to you._

"Whose side are you on anyway?"

Arthur sat up in bed, resting his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his fists. Merlin had seemed out of sorts for a while now, but this morning—well, this morning had been different. Arthur still wasn't sure what to make of it. Merlin had been late, as usual, and Arthur had been too hungry to wait for Merlin to show up with his morning meal. But when Arthur threw open his door to call another servant, in tumbled Merlin, wearing a nightshirt, nearly knocking Arthur off his feet.

It was completely inappropriate. A lifetime of royal training told Arthur he ought to be angry, even offended, but, looking down at the exhausted boy resting against his legs, Arthur could only feel pity for Merlin. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be a permanent feature now. Arthur just wanted to fix whatever was troubling Merlin so he could see that cheeky smile again. Instead, royal training had taken over and he'd snapped a question at Merlin. But when Merlin said he was trying to protect Arthur from thieves, Arthur had had to turn his back and compose himself before he could face Merlin again. It was so sweet—so Merlin. Arthur didn't believe it for a moment, but something told him he shouldn't pry for more information. Merlin looked like at any moment he would either burst into tears or pass out. Arthur had sent Merlin to muck out the stables, but he hoped Merlin would recognize a chance to take a day off and get some rest.

Arthur decided he would speak with Gaius in the morning to see if the physician could help Merlin at all. He felt better having a definite course of action. He flopped back on his pillow and made another attempt at sleeping. He was just starting to doze off when another thunder clap startled him awake. Groaning aloud, he got up to close the window. Looking out the window, Arthur was surprised to see light on one of the nearby mountains. "Who in the world would be out on a night like this?" Arthur wondered. It was an odd light, though; it didn't flicker like a torch or a campfire. As he stared, the light grew brighter and brighter until he had to look away because it hurt his eyes. For a moment it was like a tiny piece of the sun had been dropped on the mountain. And then the light was gone.

Arthur threw on trousers and a shirt, all thoughts of sleep forgotten. Just as he was about to open his door, he paused with his hand on the handle. He surely wouldn't find Merlin asleep at his door again, would he? He opened the door as gently as he could. No one was there. He felt…he wasn't sure. Disappointed? Shaking his head at his own silliness, Arthur rushed through the corridors of the castle to his father's chambers. Not surprisingly, firelight still flickered out from underneath the door. Arthur sometimes wondered if his father ever slept. He knocked and opened the door without waiting for an answer.

From his seat at a table, Uther looked up from some papers, clearly angry at the rude interruption. The anger softened somewhat when he saw his son. "Arthur, what is it?"

"Magic." Immediately he had his father's full attention. "I saw a light, brighter than the sun, on a mountaintop near Camelot. It shone for several seconds and then vanished."

Uther rose from his seat. "Wake some of the knights to go with you and investigate. I'll summon the council; report your findings to me when you return." Arthur nodded and Uther added, "Arthur, don't take unnecessary risks, understand?"

"Of course, Father."

"We're dealing with magic, son. You're to investigate and access a possible threat and report back. It's far too dangerous to attempt to engage in a fight until we know what we're facing."

"Yes, Father." Outside his father's chambers, Arthur paused for a moment. He briefly considered rousing Merlin to accompany the knights. Merlin could be unexpectedly helpful in this sort of situation. Arthur decided he didn't wish to interrupt Merlin's sleep; these days Merlin seemed to need all the sleep he could get. Instead, Arthur turned toward to the knights' quarters.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The rain was just beginning to fall when Merlin climbed his way back to consciousness. It tumbled down in large, slow drops that splattered noisily when they hit ground. Merlin was flat on his back in the middle of his chalk circle; he must have fainted after finishing the spell. Silently he assessed himself. Feet, legs, hands, arms—everything seemed to be intact. He sat up and the world seemed to spin around him. It took an immense effort of will not to pass out again, but slowly the dizziness passed and he was able to stand. The rain was falling harder now, but it didn't bother Merlin. The night was warm and the rain was refreshing. He noted with satisfaction that the rain was beginning to wash away the chalk lines of his magic circle.

The spectacle of the spell would surely have been noticed by someone in Camelot. Merlin was sure of that. He needed to return to the castle quickly. The longer he remained out here, the greater the chance someone could connect him with the magic done here. _This was a foolish risk,_ he thought to himself, _I should never have done this so publicly._ But it had seemed to be so important, he recalled, to cast the spell and cast it as soon as possible, that he had thrown caution to the wind. Thinking back, he wasn't sure why he had been so desperate to cast the spell. He had been terribly upset over Arthur, but now it seemed so foolish. Merlin couldn't understand why he hadn't realized how illogically he had been acting before now.

Merlin looked around the plateau for his shirt, but it was nowhere to be seen. It must have been blown away by the storm. It was a minor problem that could easily be remedied when he reached Camelot. The wind was blowing fiercely and the rainstorm was rapidly turning into a gale. Without warning a gust of wind swept down from the sky, sweeping across the small plateau and hitting Merlin with such force that he lost his balance and stumbled over the edge of the mountain. He barely managed to seize on a small, scraggly tree growing from the side of the cliff face, stopping his fall as suddenly as it had started. He stopped with such a jolt that it felt like his arms would be wrenched from his shoulders. For a moment he hung from the plant, unsure how to proceed.

Merlin was intellectually aware that he should be frightened for his life, yet he felt nothing. _Fear will not help me,_ Merlin told himself. _Fearing for my life will not help save my life. Therefore, I shall not fear._ It was that simple. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Merlin knew that it _shouldn't_ be that simple, but he ignored that. He had to focus on getting safely back to the ground. Climbing back to the top and walking down wasn't an option. There weren't any handholds or grips Merlin could use to pull himself up. There was, however, a small ledge just a few hundred feet below. It looked like the ledge wound around the side of the mountain. It might even connect with the road down.

Looking around, Merlin saw a small channel carved in the mountainside not far from where he hung. It must have been carved by an old spring, long since gone dry. The water had worn the interior of the channel smooth, but there were plenty of craggy features left at the edges. Cautiously Merlin let go of the scrubby tree with one hand, hanging on all the tighter with his remaining hand. He stretched out his arm, reaching for a grip on the edge of the dried waterway. His fingers brushed against it, but it was just out of reach.

Merlin eyed the tree which was supporting his weight. It was strong despite its sickly appearance. It wasn't dead; somehow it managed to survive, clinging to the side of a cliff. Merlin cleared his mind and closed his eyes. He focused on the tree and spoke, "_Tyfu._" The wood crackled as it began to move. New green leaves sprang forth from the branches as they began to grow. Slowly the branch from which Merlin hung moved closer and closer to the dry channel. Merlin grasped a handhold and found purchase for one of his feet as well.

Merlin let go of the tree and found another handhold. Once in the waterway, he found it relatively easy going. He nearly slipped on the water-worn stones several times, but he never fell. He managed to descend to the ledge he had seen. The ledge wound around the side of the mountain and reconnected with the pathway that would return Merlin to the forest floor. He descended the mountain and set out for Camelot, taking care to stay off the roads lest he be seen by anyone coming to investigate the strange light. He needn't have worried about such caution. The knights made so much noise as they rode through the forest and carried so many torches with them that Merlin would have had to be blind and deaf not to know exactly where they were. He had no trouble slipping past the knights undetected.

Arriving at Camelot, Merlin found the gates unlocked, waiting for the knights to return, but guarded. A well-aimed rock thrown against the city wall some distance away was all it took to draw the guards from their posts. As the guards investigated the noise, Merlin slid through the gates and into the city. Some washing had been left hanging out to dry in the warm night. Whoever had left it out must have been deep asleep because they hadn't bothered to bring it in when the rain started. Merlin glanced up and down the street to make sure he was alone and snatched one of the soaked shirts from the line. As he shrugged the wet fabric over his head it occurred to him that he should feel guilty about stealing the shirt. Odd, but he didn't seem to mind at all.

Merlin had no trouble getting into the castle; the guards didn't even bother to question him, assuming that he was on an errand for Arthur. When he reached Gaius' tower, he thought he was home free. He closed the door to Gaius' chambers behind himself and found Gaius staring at him. For moment, Gaius was too surprised to say anything. Merlin took advantage of his silence and spoke first. "You are up unusually late," he observed.

"Uther has summoned the council," Gaius replied, "to discuss magic observed near the city." An inquisitive eyebrow rose toward the ceiling. "I might ask what _you_ are doing out so late," an accusatory tone crept into his voice, "when magic seems to be afoot."

It would be useless to deny involvement with the magic. Gaius would never believe Merlin had just happened to be out at the same time that some other powerful sorcerer was performing magic on the mountaintop. To Gaius, he said, "I summoned the Great Dragon. I thought I had found a prophecy about Camelot in one of the books in the library, but Kilgharrah said it was just a foolish scribe trying to sound pompous. He was upset with me for summoning him and blew quite a bit of fire. I imagine someone here must have seen the light."

Gaius huffed, "Someone? Yes, someone, I dare say. Prince Arthur saw the fire atop the mountain. And I can't say I blame the dragon for being upset. Merlin, you know better than to call the dragon for every problem you encounter. It's dangerous for him to come so close to Camelot."

Gaius didn't look entirely satisfied—something in Merlin's voice didn't sound quite right. But Uther had summoned the council and Gaius needed to be there. "Get yourself to bed," he instructed Merlin. "I'll tell you what happened in the morning." With that, he left and closed the door behind him.

Merlin climbed the ladder that went up to his small bedroom. After peeling the wet clothes off his body and setting them aside to dry, he collapsed into his bed. It had been a long day, and he was tired. He crawled under the blanket and closed his eyes. Shortly he drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

- x - x - x - x - x -

Arthur pushed open the doors of Camelot's throne room. He was tired and he wanted to go straight to bed but his father would want a report. He only wished he had better news. Uther was seated on the throne at the end of the great hall surrounded by Gaius and all the royal advisors. In the darkness of the night, lit by flickering torches, they looked terribly imposing. At the sound of the doors, every eye in the hall turned expectantly to watch Arthur approaching the throne.

Uther didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Arthur, what news?"

"I'm afraid we found nothing, Father."

His father pursed his lips in a frown of displeasure. "Nothing?"

"We searched the top of the mountain where the light was seen and the path leading up to it. Whoever was there had left by the time we arrived. The storm washed out any hope we had of tracking them."

Uther turned to Gaius. "Well, Gaius, what do you think we might be facing?"

"I shouldn't care to hazard a guess on so little information." Gaius looked to Arthur, "Are you sure it was magic that you saw? Perhaps it was simply a campfire."

There was no doubt in Arthur's mind that he had witnessed sorcery earlier tonight. "The light burned so brightly that, even at this distance, I couldn't look directly at it. And there was no evidence of a fire on the mountain. That was no campfire." Gaius nodded sagely, appearing to consider the information. "On our way through the town," Arthur added, somewhat defensively, "we received more reports of the same light from the townspeople and the night watch. I wasn't the only one who saw it."

Gaius waved his hands as though brushing away an offensive thought, "I never meant to imply you were mistaken, Sire."

Arthur inclined his head, acknowledging Gaius' not-quite-apology, and returned his attention to his father. Uther silently contemplated his course of action, his hands steepled in front of his face. After a moment he lowered his hands and addressed the room. "There does not appear to be an immediate threat, but we must remain vigilant nevertheless. Arthur, I want patrols increased until we are certain that this sorcery was not an attack. Obviously, you have my leave to pursue any information which may lead to the sorcerer responsible." Arthur nodded once. Since Leon was away at the western garrison, Arthur would have to oversee all the changes personally.

As the council dispersed, Arthur waited until Gaius left and then slipped out after him. "Gaius?"

The physician stopped and waited for Arthur to catch up. "Sire?"

Arthur was surprised to realize he had no idea what he was going to say. He stumbled over his words in a distinctly un-royal fashion. "I…that is…well, Merlin…"

Gaius eyebrows rose. "Merlin?" The physician began to walk toward his tower; Arthur followed alongside. "What about him?"

Arthur paused and collected his thoughts. "He's well, I trust?"

Gaius looked nonplussed for a moment. Obviously, he knew there was more than simple curiosity behind Arthur's question.

"He's seemed," Arthur tried to explain, "I don't know, not himself lately. And he certainly doesn't appear to be getting enough sleep."

Gaius nodded, "I had noticed that, as well."

"Is there something you could do for him?"

"Unfortunately, Sire, I don't think it's a malady I can treat with medicine."

"What do you mean?"

Gaius shrugged, "Because I don't think it's a physical ailment. Something is bothering the boy. He won't say what it is, and I don't wish to pry." Arthur's disappointment must have shown on his face because Gaius patted his shoulder. "Don't worry; Merlin will work through whatever is bothering him in his own time."

"I hope so," Arthur whispered.

"Pardon?"

Glad that it was dark enough to hide his embarrassment, Arthur quickly shook his head. "Nothing."

They stopped outside the door to Gaius' tower. "Good night, Arthur."

"Good night, Gaius, and thank you."

"Of course, Sire."

- x - x - x - x - x -

Merlin brought a tray of breakfast into Arthur's chambers just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He had woken while it was still dark with more than enough time to grab a bite to eat for himself and still arrive in Arthur's room on time. He had slipped out of the tower before Gaius woke up and retrieved Arthur's breakfast from the castle kitchen. Despite the early hour, he felt more rested than he had in ages. He saw that Arthur was still asleep. _He did have a late night last night,_ he thought to himself, _so it's only logical he should be tired._ Merlin set the tray on the table by the bed and quietly began to set out some clothes that Arthur might wish to wear today.

Before long, Arthur began to stir in his bed, spurred, no doubt, by the smell of breakfast. Arthur yawned and sat up. While he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he noticed Merlin dutifully setting out clothes for him. He stopped with one hand frozen mid-rub. His brows furrowed as serious thought tried to penetrate the fog of sleep. "Merlin?" He sounded deeply confused. His hand realized it was hovering about his eye and returned to his lap.

"Sire?" Merlin snapped to attention, the picture of a perfect servant.

"Merlin!?" This time the shock was plain in his voice. Arthur looked out the window, checking to make sure he hadn't slept later than he realized. The sun crested the distant mountains and began the day's journey upward. Arthur looked back at Merlin and sniffed the air. He looked around for the source of the pleasant aroma and discovered the bedside table where breakfast was waiting for him. He looked back at Merlin. "Merlin, what are you doing here? With breakfast, no less?"

"Do you not desire breakfast, Sire? I shall remove it at once." Merlin moved toward the table, but Arthur stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine." Arthur selected a slice of apple from the plate. "You're just not usually here yet."

"I am, however, supposed to be here, am I not?"

"Well, yes, but…" Arthur decided not to question good fortune. "Never mind. You're looking good, today."

"Thank you, Sire."

"Feeling better, then?"

Merlin's face went blank. "Better, Sire?" Arthur hadn't thought it was a difficult question. After a moment, Merlin answered, "I had a most satisfactory night's sleep, thank you for asking, Sire."

Merlin returned to Arthur's wardrobe. "I thought, perhaps, the red doublet today, Sire?"

Arthur frowned again. "Why are you doing that?"

"One of my duties is to help you dress in the mornings, is it not, Sire?"

Arthur waved the question aside. "Yes, of course. That's not what I meant."

"Sire?"

"THAT," Arthur nearly shouted. "You keep calling me 'Sire.'"

"It _is_ your title, Sire."

Arthur shot a glance at Merlin looking for signs that the boy was having him on. Merlin appeared perfectly composed and innocent. Still half asleep and not quite recovered from the shock of Merlin's miraculous punctuality, Arthur was in no mood to argue. "Well, stop. It's annoying."

"Apologies," Merlin murmured with a slight bow. "The red doublet?"

Merlin's sterling professionalism was throwing Arthur for a loop. "Ah, no, not the doublet." Arthur shook his head to try and clear away the metal cobwebs. "I'll need to oversee the knights today. We're stepping up patrols until we learn more about the magic last night."

Merlin began putting away the clothes he'd set out earlier. "You shall be needing your armour, then. Will I be accompanying you with the knights?"

Normally, Arthur would have enjoyed Merlin's company on a patrol, but this morning Arthur found the idea unsettling. Merlin wasn't acting like Merlin. "No, I don't think so. There's plenty of work you need to finish here at the castle."

"As you wish."

Again, Arthur studied Merlin's face to see if he was being teased. Merlin would usually complain like a little child at being left behind. Again, Arthur found no hint of any teasing. Arthur got out of bed, feeling inexplicably grumpy. "Here, help me on with my armour."

"Do you not wish to finish breakfast first?"

Arthur glared at the food on the table. "I'm not hungry." It came out a little more petulantly than was proper for a prince, but Merlin didn't seem to notice.

- x - x - x - x - x -

Later that evening, Merlin had nearly finished tidying Arthur's rooms, the last of the lengthy list of chores he had been avoiding for days. He had been working all day with hardly a break, but he didn't mind. _Logically, the faster I finish my work, the sooner I will be able to rest._ He had, of course, taken a moment earlier that afternoon for a small lunch. No sense, after all, in working oneself into exhaustion brought on by malnutrition. But lunch had just been a loaf of bread and a glass of water. He could have asked the cooks to prepare something but it would have taken too much time.

Lunch had been some time ago, though, and Merlin was beginning to feel fatigued. Perhaps he ought to find some dinner. But he was nearly finished. It would be better to wait until he was finished to get something to eat. Merlin ran a broom beneath Arthur's wardrobe to remove any dust balls which might be hiding underneath the large piece of furniture, something he had never considered doing on the previous occasions he had cleaned the room. Instead of dust balls, he swept out a rather large mouse.

The mouse wasted no time currying for cover beneath Arthur's bed. Merlin didn't even blink; he extended a hand toward the unfortunate rodent. "_Torri ei gwddf._" He felt the magic surge through him a moment before the mouse's neck snapped upward at an unnatural angle and its body slid to a stop in the middle of the room. Merlin realized he had discovered another unexpected benefit of locking away his emotions. He had never been comfortable taking the life of another living thing. Arthur had often teased him about his squeamishness during hunting expeditions.

Arthur couldn't have understood what it was like for Merlin, who could feel the spark of life in every creature as easily as Arthur could see the sunlight. Actually, if Arthur didn't want to see the sunlight, he could just shut his eyes. Merlin didn't even have the luxury of shutting his mind's eye as he felt the vitality wane from Arthur's latest kill until it faded from existence entirely, leaving a hole where once there had been life. Yet, without emotions to get in the way, Merlin had killed the mouse without a second thought. He glanced around the room, looking for something in which to carry the body of the mouse. Spying his empty mop bucket across the room, he held out his hand and willed the bucket to him.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, Merlin stared and the bucket and concentrated.

Nothing happened.

Frustrated, he held out his hand again and snapped, "_Dod!_" The bucket flew across the room and into his hand. Merlin glanced at the door to make sure it was shut. The mouse's body forgotten for the moment, he picked up a small pebble from the floor and held it in his hand, palm up, fingers open. He stared at the stone and concentrated until sweat began to bead on his forehead, but nothing happened. Finally, he said, "_Codi._" Immediately, the stone lifted from his palm and hovered several inches above his hand.

Merlin allowed the rock to hover for several seconds before releasing the magic and catching the stone in his hand. Silently he picked up the dead mouse and dropped it into his empty bucket. After collecting his broom, mop, and bucket, Merlin opened the door and stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. He disposed of the mouse down the chute that led to the kitchen's rubbish tip and returned the cleaning supplies to the small room next to the kitchen where he had collected them earlier that day.

Merlin may not have presently been capable of feeling panicked by his discoveries, but he still felt a sense of urgency to learn why he could no longer work magic without speaking a spell aloud. He had been working magic without speaking since, well, since before he could speak. It was only in the years since he came to Camelot that he had begun to study spells and learned to focus his power with spoken words. The change in his abilities represented an unknown variable. It was only prudent to identify it as quickly as possible.

He hurried through the corridors of the castle, nodding to the various servants and courtiers he passed. He rushed up the stairs to Gaius' tower intending to go straight to his room and begin studying his book of magic for more information. As soon as he opened the door, he knew that wasn't going to happen. He had interrupted Gaius at work, preparing some concoction for one of his patients. When Gaius saw who it was, he gave Merlin a look that spoke volumes. Merlin shut the door and waited for Gaius to say something.

Gaius set down his instruments and fixed Merlin with an unblinking gaze. "A blinding light, brighter than the sun, which even people as far away as Camelot were unable to look at directly." Gaius walked around the table shaking his head. "That was no dragon fire last night, was it?" Gaius didn't wait for an answer, "Merlin, what did you do?"

Although Merlin didn't wish to waste time discussing his actions with Gaius, there seemed to be little point in holding to the lie of last night. Besides, Gaius would probably be more helpful discovering what had happened to him than any book, but even Gaius wouldn't be much use if he didn't know what had happened to Merlin. "I cast a changing spell."

"Changing? Changing what? What was so important you couldn't have waited until you had a more privacy?" Merlin started to answer, but Gaius wasn't finished yet. "Changing spells are notoriously tricky, Merlin. Why in Heaven's name would you try to cast one without talking to me first?"

"I was changing myself."

That caught Gaius up short. "And I would have tried to stop you," he reasoned, "with good cause, I might add! Changing oneself…it's dangerous at best, as I'm sure you knew." Gaius' expression turned to confusion. He knew he didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle and he couldn't make sense of the problem. "Merlin, why?"

"My personal feelings were at conflict with my duty."

Gaius scoffed. "Merlin, I know Arthur can be hard to work for, but that's no excuse."

"Not that duty," Merlin shook his head. "My other duty. My 'destiny.' I must protect Arthur so he can fulfil his destiny." Gaius' expression softened somewhat. "The destiny of an entire kingdom is more important than whatever I may feel personally, so I sealed away anything that might distract me from my duty."

"Merlin!" gasped Gaius, "How could you…but that's…surely you realize…" Gaius sputtered incoherently, shocked at Merlin's declaration.

"It was the right choice," Merlin said, unperturbed. "My duty to Arthur has to come first." Gaius clearly didn't agree. "It would be just as dangerous, more dangerous, even, to try and undo the spell, would it not?"

Reluctantly Gaius nodded. "I'm not even sure it's possible to undo magic like that. It could kill you as easily as not. But, I still don't understand, Merlin…what drove you to this?"

"It was personal," was all Merlin would allow on the subject. Gaius tried to press for more information but Merlin held firm. "The deed is done, Gaius. Arguing about it serves no purpose. There is a more pressing issue."

Gaius drew in a breath. "Something went wrong, didn't it?"

"I am not certain," Merlin admitted. "I do not seem to be able to work magic without speaking a spell."

"I suppose that makes sense, in a way." Gaius' gaze turned inward for a moment as he considered. "As you know, the majority of sorcerers are talented individuals who were trained in the ways of magic. It takes a lifetime of training to learn to open yourself to magic and learn to use it. Individuals born to magic, like yourself, are so rare, very little is known about the power they wield or their connection to it." Gaius went over to a shelf and began to hunt for a book. "There was a scholar, long dead before I was born—ah, here it is." He found the tome he wanted and pulled it down, opening it to the relevant section. "He theorized that individuals born to magic somehow had magic fused to their very souls," Gaius looked up at Merlin with solemn eyes, "and you have sealed away part of your soul."

Merlin listened to everything Gaius said with no more reaction than if they had been discussing the weather. "In other words, this is a sign that the spell worked precisely as expected, not a problem with the spell."

"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," replied Gaius with more than a trace of sourness, "but, yes." Merlin nodded and turned away, heading for his bedroom. Gaius clearly wished to continue their discussion, but it appeared he was momentarily at a loss for words. Merlin climbed the stairs and went into his room without looking back.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

I'd just like to say a quick thank you to the people following the story and everyone who's taken the time to post reviews. It's great to know that people are actually reading and enjoying this. Really, it gives me the warm-and-fuzzies, so, thank you.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Once the city gates had closed behind Arthur and his men, he allowed himself to relax slightly. Riding outside the city on patrol was a tense business these days. Since no trace had been found of the party responsible for the magic Arthur had witnessed two weeks ago, everyone was a bit agitated. Uther was constantly on edge, fearing sorcerous conspiracies behind every abnormal occurrence. When the king was nervous, it had a way of filtering down to everyone else, too.

Usually, Arthur would have tried to set a better example for his men. He knew that if he remained in good spirits, his knights would as well. Good spirits were hard for Arthur to come by, though. He was understandably impatient to be done with the extra patrols and extra work. On top of that, his mood seemed to get worse with each passing day. Merlin had yet to snap out of his strange 'proper servant' routine. Each day that went by with no sign of change in Merlin left Arthur just a little more annoyed. He was annoyed, wasn't he? Arthur hated to admit it, but he wasn't sure. He knew he wanted Merlin back to his 'old self,' and he didn't like the way Merlin was acting. So he ought to be annoyed, right?

After returning his horse to the stables, Arthur happened to see Gwen in Camelot's courtyard. When she waved in greeting, Arthur returned the wave and went over to her. "Arthur," she said warmly, "how are things?"

"They've been better," he replied.

Gwen looked sympathetic. "No trouble on the patrols, I hope."

"Nothing like that, no. Everyone's just a little nervous."

"Even the fearless Arthur?" teased Gwen. She was one of the few people, servant or not, who could get away with teasing Arthur. Merlin was one of the others, although he hadn't even come close to teasing Arthur for weeks. The thought of Merlin soured Arthur's mood; Gwen must have seen it on his face. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Arthur groaned in frustration. "It's Merlin!"

"What about him?"

"He's just been so…not-Merlin lately."

Gwen considered this. "He was looking bad for a while, but I thought he seemed to have bounced back well enough."

"Have you spoken to him recently?"

"No, not recently," she admitted. "I haven't seen him around for a while."

"That explains it," Arthur said.

"Explains what?"

Arthur shrugged. "He looks better, yes, but he's not. You only have to talk to him to see it. He's like a walking statue. He never smiles or laughs or gets annoyed or gets angry or calls me a prat. I can't stand it!"

"And that annoys you?"

Arthur looked at Gwen like she'd just asked if the sky was blue. "Of course it does! Why?"

Gwen smiled gently. "Most people, if a close friend were acting odd, would be concerned, perhaps worried. I don't think 'annoyed' would top the list of likely responses."

"Most people aren't a prince," Arthur retorted.

Gwen gave Arthur a hard stare and said archly, "Arthur Pendragon, I dare say I know you better than that." In a kinder tone, "You miss him, don't you?"

"But he's a servant!"

Gwen tsked. "I know, and it's so sweet of you to worry about him," she teased. More seriously, she added, "He'll be back to his old self soon, I'm sure. In the meantime, just be there for him. Make sure he knows his friends care about him."

- x - x - x - x - x -

Merlin sat alone in the woods outside Camelot. The late afternoon air was still and the forest was peaceful. He sat cross-legged on the ground in a small clearing inside a copse of trees, shielded from view by their dense foliage. His eyes were closed in concentration as he probed the area around him with his mind's eye. He cast his mind about searching for something. Ever since he cast his changing spell, he had been sensing something he couldn't identify. It was like seeing something out of corner of his eye, but whenever he tried to focus on it, it would vanish.

A bird landed nearby and picked a small beetle off of a rock with its beak. A quick swallow and the beetle was no more. As the beetle died, Merlin could sense the vitality leaving its small body. Absentmindedly, Merlin observed the loose energy, expecting to see it dissipate and be absorbed into the environment. Under his scrutiny, though, it didn't fade. As he focused on the disembodied life-force, he felt it drawn into him and added to his own vital energy. The feeling was so unexpected that Merlin actually flinched. The small bit of life that had been the beetle's suddenly belonged to Merlin. He cast his mental gaze wider. All around him he felt the cycle of life and death, of birth and renewal, that was the very heart of the natural world.

The earth itself swarmed with life. Within the soil were creatures so tiny, so miniscule, that Merlin only knew they were there because he could feel their energy. Their numbers were endless; more than Merlin could comprehend. Millions upon millions of tiny sparks were going about their lives beneath his feet, completely unaware of the larger world around them. Living, multiplying, and dying by scores every second, each tiny little death releasing a tiny spark of life. Each death released a little bit of life energy back to nature. And, Merlin realized, each bit of energy could be used.

Merlin tapped into the natural energy around him, using it to augment his own abilities. He pushed his mental gaze outward, looking for something just beyond his senses. The energy Merlin stole from the dying seemed to be limitless. Soon he was able to see far beyond anything he had thought possible. And, soon, Merlin saw what he was seeking. On the mountain where he had cast the changing spell was another mind, another presence. Merlin tried to call out to it, to get its attention, but something repelled him. Merlin could practically feel a force all around him, pushing back and preventing him from looking at…at what? Curiosity can be a powerful motivator. Summoning his strength and drawing on his newfound source of energy, Merlin marshalled his mental forces and pushed back against the barrier. At first nothing happened, but Merlin persisted. He had all the strength he could need at his fingertips, fed to him by nature itself. When the barrier finally shattered, Merlin suddenly became aware of the other mind looking back at him from the other side.

A voice, rich and sonorous, filled his head. _Well, hello there._

Merlin's eyes snapped open. He quickly retreated back into the solitude of his own mind, breaking the contact with…whoever that was. Merlin had experienced mental connections before, with Mordred, but that was more like a conversation. Even just brushing against this mind, Merlin had been overwhelmed by its power. Whoever had spoken to him had a mind more powerful than Merlin had ever felt before. And, unsettlingly, it seemed to have been aware of Merlin. Merlin resolved not to attempt contacting it again. Whatever it was, logic told Merlin that it was best left alone. It was back on the edge of perception now, just out of sight. Hopefully, it would stay there.

The sun was just beginning to set when Merlin got up and began to walk back to Camelot. Behind him, not terribly far from Camelot, was the mountain where Merlin had gone to cast his changing spell. At the peak of the mountain, over the plateau, a tiny blue light flickered into existence and then disappeared. For several minutes nothing happened. Then the light appeared again, stronger this time. It looked like a tiny drop of water, gleaming bright blue in the dying light of the evening. It glowed in the air for several seconds before disappearing again.

- x - x - x - x - x -

Arthur lay on his bed staring at the spectacular colours in the evening sky. His windows faced the sunrise, so he couldn't actually see the sunset, but it would be a sight to behold if the spectacle from his window was any measure. The sky had turned a brilliant golden-orange. Floating just above the distant purple mountains were clouds of deep crimson and burnt orange. The orange was beginning to darken to violet, heralding the coming night, when Arthur got up to close the curtains. Instead, he stood at his window, staring out at the sky. "If Merlin were here," he said aloud, "he would make some silly remark about the majesty of nature, and I would tease him for being a girl." Glumly he closed the curtains and returned to his bed. "Except he wouldn't. Not anymore."

Two weeks ago, Merlin had looked so poorly that Arthur thought he was ill. He seemed to be better now, to a casual glance, but, for Arthur, Merlin's new attitude was almost worse than before. Before, it had pained Arthur to see Merlin in such a bad state, but at least Merlin had still been…Merlin. Now he was the model of a perfect servant: respectful, humble, and hard-working. He was a better servant than he had ever been in all the years he had been working for Arthur. Arthur hated it.

"I hadn't realized how much I had come to appreciate his…his what?" Arthur couldn't quite find the right words.

The annoying little voice in the back of his mind, the voice that always seemed to show up when he was thinking about Merlin, didn't have any such trouble. _His support, believing you when no one else does. His willingness to argue with you, telling you you're being foolish when everyone else is afraid to. His odd ability to say exactly the right thing at exactly the right time. His ability to perfectly walk the line between disrespect and friendly teasing._

"He doesn't always walk it so perfectly. He's wound up in the stocks more than once because of his mouth."

_Speaking of his mouth—_

"Hey!"

I_ was just going to mention his smile—but if _you_ had other ideas about his mouth…_

"He never smiles anymore, does he?" Arthur looked up into the canopy over his bed, not seeing anything except the memory of a goofy, infectiously cheerful smile.

_Admit it: You miss him._

"Miss him? How could I miss him? He's here every day, annoyingly punctual every morning." But Arthur did miss Merlin all the same. He missed the old Merlin. He missed 'his' Merlin. For some reason Arthur couldn't identify, the perfect, proper Merlin got under his skin. "It's impossible to get a reaction out of him!" Arthur complained. He had tried pressing all of Merlin's usual buttons. He had loaded him with extra work, given him chores which were normally left for the lower-class servants, teased him while they were alone, and a dozen other tricks which were normally guaranteed to get a rise out of Merlin. Merlin had remained unflappable and done everything asked of him. Arthur had actually forbidden Merlin to address him by titles, insisting he use Arthur's name, but it wasn't the same.

Even the knights had begun to notice that Arthur was in no mood to be bothered, leaving him alone unless they had to speak to him. Arthur refused to let Merlin come with him on patrols even though he could have used another set of hands to help with all the extra work.

In fact, Arthur had been avoiding Merlin as much as possible, lately. He had been dismissing Merlin earlier and earlier in the afternoon, preferring to be alone in the evenings and do his own work than deal with Merlin. "I should just have him replaced," he muttered to himself. "But I won't." He still hoped that one morning he would wake up and find that Merlin had overslept and was rushing in with his breakfast in such a hurry that he dropped the tray on the floor. Right now, Arthur couldn't think of anything he wanted more. Except, maybe, to see Merlin smile again.

The day had long ago given up its fight and turned to night, and Arthur was no closer to sleep than if it were noon. He got up from his bed, grabbed a robe, and padded barefoot out of his room. Gaius would have long since gone to bed, Arthur knew, but he thought he might be able to find a sleeping draught somewhere in Gaius' stores without any help. At the very least, he reasoned, he could awaken Merlin and order him to get a sleeping draught. Despite his unbearable obsequience, Merlin was nothing if not helpful. However, when Arthur got to the physicians' tower, he was surprised to find Gaius not only awake but hard at work. The old doctor was surrounded by stacks of books, papers, and scrolls. When Arthur walked in, Gaius was poring over a diagram in an old book in such minute detail that he was using his lens to help him see the small print.

Gaius didn't even notice when Arthur entered. After waiting a moment, Arthur discretely cleared his throat. Gaius looked up, startled. "Arthur, what brings you here at this hour?"

"I was hoping you might have a sleeping draught. I don't seem to be sleeping very well of late."

"Oh, certainly." Gaius got up and went to a shelf where he retrieved a small wooden box. He pulled out a small paper envelope which he handed to Arthur. Arthur looked inside and saw a small quantity of brownish powder. "Valerian root and chamomile," he explained. "Just make a broth out of it. I'm afraid it won't taste very pleasant, but it is effective. A bit of honey in the broth can help. Shall I fetch Merlin to prepare it for you?"

"No!" It came out sharper than he had intended and Gaius looked at him quizzically. "That is, I don't see why he should be kept up because I can't sleep." Whether Gaius believed him or not, Arthur couldn't say. He looked over the papers Gaius had been studying. Some of them Arthur could read; many of them were in languages he couldn't begin to identify. They all seemed to show a ritual circle of some sort with strange symbols around the edge. "What has you up so late?" he asked.

Gaius gestured at the mountains of scholarly work. "I've been trying to learn more about the magic you saw."

"Have you made any progress?"

"None, unfortunately." Gaius sounded so bitter about his failure that Arthur felt guilty for asking.

"It's alright," Arthur reassured him. "We haven't been able to learn anything in our investigations, either. I'm sure it won't take long for the sorcerer to slip up, though."

"No," said Gaius, ominously, "I don't think it will."

"That's good," said Arthur. "Isn't it?"

Gaius nodded his head wearily. "Yes. Yes, of course it is. I'm just concerned." He waved his hand dismissively. "An old man's prerogative," he said. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I hope so." He hesitated for a moment. "Gaius, do you think that, whatever that light was I saw…do you think it might have affected Merlin somehow?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure," Arthur admitted. "It just seems like he's been different since then."

"It's difficult to say," Gaius said. He smiled gently at Arthur's concern, "Have heart, Arthur. If Merlin is in danger, he couldn't ask for a better ally than you."

Arthur was unexpectedly pleased by the remark. "Thank you," he said softly. He held up the envelope of herbs. "And thank you for this," he said. "And I think I should be on my way." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Perhaps you should call it a night, too. It is quite late."

"Perhaps I should, at that." Gaius went back over to his books. "I just want to finish this passage; I think it might be relevant." He was already engrossed in the book by the time Arthur left the room.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The next morning Arthur woke to the smell of breakfast and the sight of Merlin setting out the leather jerkin and rough clothes Arthur wore beneath his armour. Perhaps it was because of Gwen's words from yesterday, perhaps it was because of a good night's sleep thanks to Gaius' medicine, but Arthur had a good feeling about today. "Good morning, Merlin," he said heartily. Merlin simply inclined his head in acknowledgement. Arthur felt a spark of irritation flare up but ignored it. Arthur plucked a roll from his breakfast tray and took a bite. "Not those clothes today, Merlin; find me a riding outfit. And have the stables saddle my horse and one for you."

"For myself?"

Arthur jumped out of bed and clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "That's right; you're coming with me today. The knights can manage by themselves for one day. We're going to go take another look at the mountain where I saw the strange light. Maybe we'll turn up something in daylight that we missed before." Merlin began to gather the clothes he had already set out for Arthur. Feeling playful, Arthur snagged Merlin's arm and pulled him away. "Oh, leave those. You can pick them up later." Arthur misjudged his pull and yanked Merlin a little harder than he had anticipated. The clothes fell out of Merlin's arms and Merlin himself was thrown off balance, falling against Arthur. Unconsciously, Arthur's other arm came up behind Merlin to steady him, but also holding him against Arthur's muscular (and unclad) chest.

Arthur gazed down at the young man in his arms; Merlin's slight frame looked so terribly fragile compared against Arthur. Arthur became uncomfortably aware of his heartbeat, which seemed to be much louder than normal. "Merlin, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know."

The response was unexpected. "What?"

Merlin looked up, his expression completely placid with blank, empty eyes. "It is not in your nature to hurt others. It was improbable that your actions were intended to harm."

Arthur couldn't think of a reply to that, so he decided not to say anything. Once he was sure Merlin was standing on his own two feet again, Arthur let go of him and stepped back. "So, uh, that riding outfit?"

Merlin nodded, slightly, "Of course."

- x - x - x - x - x -

Arthur watched Merlin riding in front of him as they rode through the forest outside Camelot. He had been trying to get a reaction—some kind of emotion—out of Merlin this morning. He had gotten a reaction, alright, but not what he had expected and not from Merlin. His breath still caught up short at the memory of Merlin in his arms, the morning sun making his pale skin glow as though lit from within. He had felt…he wasn't sure what he had felt, because he'd never felt anything like it before. But then Merlin had looked up at him with those dead eyes, devoid of feeling, and the moment had passed. Still, though, Arthur had an odd feeling that, under other circumstances, the morning could have gone very differently indeed.

Arthur was glad he had decided not to bring any of the knights with them on their investigation. Truthfully, he knew finding any new information was a long shot. It had been two weeks since the night of the magic, and the storm had wiped out anything that might have helped them find the sorcerer by the next day. He thought that maybe, just maybe, getting Merlin alone, outside of Camelot, would help draw him out of his shell. Merlin, however, seemed just as disinclined to laugh or joke as ever. Arthur tried to engage him in conversation but never got more than one or two words in reply.

When they finally reached the top of the mountain where Arthur had seen the magic, they dismounted to look around. Arthur half-heartedly poked around, but he wasn't really looking for anything. Mostly, he was watching Merlin. Merlin looked around the site, upturning stones and looking for anything suspicious. Arthur strolled to the edge of the cliff and looked out over the kingdom spread out below him.

"You know," mused Arthur, "maybe the light wasn't a side effect of the magic." Merlin stopped what he was doing and looked at Arthur. "Maybe the light was the whole point."

Merlin clearly didn't agree. "Why?"

"Come over here," Arthur gestured Merlin over to the cliff where he was standing. "You can see the whole kingdom from here. There's a great view of all the roads to and from Camelot and even a pretty good view of the castle and its defences. If I were trying to invade Camelot, I would want to have a good idea what I was getting into before I brought in my army. From here, you can map out a great many of the obstacles you'd face trying to get to Camelot."

"Yes," Merlin acknowledged, "but it is mid-day right now. Someone would hardly be able to see anything in the middle of the night."

"Precisely," Arthur said with satisfaction. "Thus, the light."

"You said the light burned for barely half-a-minute. How much could one expect to map in half-a-minute?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, "but we're dealing with a sorcerer, Merlin. Who knows what they can do. Maybe they can create a magical image in seconds. Maybe they cast a spell that gave them a perfect memory so they could create a map later after studying the view for just a moment." Arthur felt the enthusiasm for his theory waning. It was a long shot, and he knew it. "It's sort of worth coming up here just for the view, though, isn't it?" Arthur reached an arm around Merlin's shoulders. "The kingdom looks really spectacular from up here. Everything looks so calm and peaceful. It makes you think all your troubles aren't really that big in the grand scheme, doesn't it?" Arthur's hand slid down from Merlin's shoulder to grip his arm and pulled Merlin closer to Arthur's side than was probably strictly appropriate. Arthur turned his gaze from the scenery below to Merlin's face. "Everything looks so beautiful up here," he finished softly.

Merlin, who didn't even notice Arthur's gaze, wore his typically impassive expression. "I suppose it is pleasing, yes, but it is not relevant to our purpose for being here." Arthur let go of Merlin and turned away so Merlin wouldn't see the frustration on his face. He took a moment to compose himself before turning back to face Merlin, determined to have it out and learn what was wrong with his servant.

"Merlin—"

But Merlin held up a hand, stopping him before he could start. "Arthur, look," he pointed toward the centre of the small plateau. At first Arthur thought Merlin was just trying to distract him, but then he saw it. In broad daylight, it was nearly invisible, about six feet off the ground. There was a tiny, blue light glistening wetly in the air. Merlin and Arthur both walked toward it.

Even as they watched, Arthur could see the light getting stronger. No, not stronger. It was getting larger. Before Arthur's eyes the light opened and expanded into—there was no other word for it—a hole: A circle of light, several inches across, through which another land could be seen. He walked around the hole, examining it from all directions. It seemed to be completely flat and was only visible from what Arthur had to assume was its front. From behind, it was as if it wasn't even there. Walking back around to the front, Arthur and Merlin peered through the hole. They saw a vast, empty landscape. It appeared to be the middle of winter even though Albion was enjoying a seasonably warm summer. The sky was grey and overcast, and the flat plain which stretched as far as the eye could see was covered in a blanket of snow. Merlin slowly reached up and put his hand through the opening. Arthur was too entranced to stop him. He walked to the side and gaped at what he saw. Merlin's hand completely disappeared where it passed through the light. From Arthur's point of view, Merlin's arm appeared to have been cut off at the wrist.

Merlin pulled his hand back out of the hole and his hand reappeared, looking none the worse for wear. He shook his hand vigorously to warm it. Several large snowflakes were thrown off and melted before they struck the ground.

Arthur had seen enough. "We need to tell my father about this."

"Arthur," Merlin called him back, "you should see this."

Arthur returned to the strange gap in reality and peered through again. In the far distance, something was moving. It was hard to judge distance in such a blank landscape void of even occasional scrub brush, but whatever it was, Arthur thought it was moving very quickly. It was throwing up quite a cloud of snow and ice in its wake. "What is it?" he wondered aloud.

Merlin voiced the obvious. "I think it would be best if we do not find out."

Arthur agreed. "We need to get back to Camelot as quickly as possible. Gaius may know how to close this," he paused, unsure what to call it, "this thing."

They mounted their horses and made to leave for Camelot. Just before they rode away, Merlin stopped and looked back. "Arthur, it is still growing." Arthur looked back and saw that it was nearly a foot across now.

Arthur flicked the reigns to get his horse moving. Grimly he said, "We'd better hurry."

- x - x - x - x - x -

Once more Arthur stood before his father and the council. Merlin stood silently by the door at the end of the throne room. Uther leaned forward with urgency. "You say you could see another land on the other side of this rift?"

Arthur nodded. "It was like a window hanging in mid-air. If it kept growing at the same rate, it's probably more like a doorway by now."

Uther looked to Gaius, who appeared concerned and slightly befuddled. Gaius answered Uther's question before the king had a chance to ask it. "I've never heard of anything like this before, Sire. Clearly, though, very powerful magic must be behind it." Gaius considered for a moment. "Very powerful, very old magic."

Uther's eyebrows went up. "A theory?" he asked.

"They're just old myths, Sire."

"It may be all we have," Uther pointed out. "Please, tell us."

"I don't know much," Gaius said, "but there are myths and legends of ancient times—the dawn of time, in fact—when gods were said to walk amongst us. Occasionally, one finds references to strange doorways through which mortals could visit the otherworld, the realm of the gods."

"Why would one of these doorways open now?" demanded Uther.

Gaius got rather flustered at that. "I couldn't say, Sire. The gods, if they ever existed at all, have been long lost to this world since before our known history. Most scholars believe the 'gods' were simply powerful sorcerers who gathered followers and created the old religion around themselves. Why a portal to the otherworld would open after so long, I couldn't began to guess."

That was not the answer Uther had wanted. "Gaius, you must learn everything you can about these portals and, more importantly, how they can be closed."

"Of course, Sire."

Arthur spoke up. "I'll prepare the city's defences. If an attack is coming, we'll be ready—" he was interrupted when the doors to the throne room opened to admit two of his knights.

"There's been an attack, Sire," panted one of the knights, "on traders leaving the city."

Arthur and Uther both asked the same question at once. "Who?"

Arthur glanced at his father apologetically, but Uther gestured for him to continue. "Who were the attackers? What kind of a force did they have?"

The knight looked uncomfortable. "The traders didn't see their attackers, Sire. They said fire sprung up on the road, blocking their path. They left the trail to try and go around but the fire leapt at them as if it had a life of its own. Their wagons were burned as were many of their party. Only a few managed to escape back to the safety of the city."

Uther's scowl deepened. "Magic." He spit the word out as though it were a curse word. "Arthur, you'd best ready our forces for an attack."

Arthur nodded. Gaius spoke up before he could leave. "If I may, Sire, I could use Merlin's help investigating this mystery."

"Of course," Arthur replied, "whatever you need."

Gaius walked quickly from the throne room and took Merlin by the arm on his way. He rushed through the corridors of the castle as quickly as his tired legs could carry them, not once letting go of his grip on Merlin's arm. When they were alone in his workshop, he closed the door behind them and spun to face Merlin.

Gaius' tone brooked no argument when he spoke. "What," he demanded, "are you not telling me?"


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Gaius' unblinking stare pinned Merlin in its gaze. He repeated his question. "What are you not telling me, Merlin?"

Merlin resigned himself to fate. The time for concealing his secrets was past. Camelot was in danger and, by extension, so was Arthur. Nothing could supersede his duty to protect Arthur. "When I lost my ability to work magic without speaking a spell," he admitted, "I gained a different ability." He explained to Gaius how he had discovered he could draw the life force from other things into himself.

"Merlin," Gaius' voice was barely above a whisper, "that's blood magic!" Merlin had never heard of blood magic and said so. "Blood magic," Gaius explained, "is one the oldest, darkest, most forbidden forms of magic. Even the high priestesses refused to use blood magic. Practitioners of blood magic were hunted as ruthlessly by the high priestesses as the old religion was hunted by Uther during the great purge. The use of blood magic warranted an instant death sentence."

"I'm not using it to harm anyone," Merlin protested. "I'm only drawing energy from creatures that are already dying."

"That's not the point, Merlin," Gaius insisted. "Blood magic wasn't outlawed because it was used to evil ends; it was outlawed because its very use was dangerous."

"How?"

Gaius shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not certain even the high priestesses knew. All I know is that users of blood magic were said to be cursed. I only know of one outbreak of blood magic in recorded history. Very little information survived, but it is known that all nine high priestesses personally led an attack to break 'the curse of the blood.' Merlin, for all nine to leave the Isle of the Blessed at once…it was unheard of. As far I know, it never happened before or since. Four of them perished in the battle which followed, along with countless priests and priestesses."

"This 'curse of the blood,'" Merlin asked, "what do you know about it?"

"Only that it is said to afflict anyone who practices blood magic." Gaius gripped Merlin by the shoulders, "Merlin, you must stop using blood magic. I don't know how it's related, but the doorway to the otherworld must be related if it appeared right where you cast your changing spell. If you stop using blood magic, perhaps the portal will close."

"I do not believe so," Merlin said. "There is something else." He related his experience from the day before, contacting the unknown being and the barrier he'd had to break to make contact. Merlin closed his eyes. "He is still there, just at the edge of perception. I still can not see him clearly, but the feeling of him is growing stronger. He is coming to our world. I believe he is the one who opened the portal."

Gaius pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, Merlin, how could you be so foolish?" He drew several deep breaths before continuing. "Whoever he is, he may not be here yet, but it sounds like he's sent others into our world ahead of him." Gaius went to his shelves and began selecting books. He turned back and seemed surprised to see Merlin still there. "Don't just stand there, Merlin. Go get your book of spells. Look for anything about blood magic or the curse of the blood. Go!"

- x - x - x - x - x -

Arthur took a moment to survey the group of knights assembled at the city gates. There were two dozen armoured knights on horseback. Some had already unsheathed their swords. Others were double-checking the straps in their armour. Some hefted heavy axes or maces, preferring them to swords. Everything seemed to be in order. He gave a nod to the guards atop the gates and they disappeared into the gatehouse. After a moment, he heard chains clanking and gears grinding and the heavy city gates began to swing open. Arthur dug his heels into his horse and charged through the gap with a loud cry. "FOR CAMELOT!"

The cry was taken up and echoed by the knights behind him as they surged through the gates aiming for the tree line of the forest. Thus far, their unknown enemy had done nothing but siege the city. They had hardly even been seen except as shadows, lithe and graceful, flitting between the trees. If anyone attempted to approach Camelot or leave the city, they were instantly set upon by powerful magic and turned back or killed. It was a cowardly tactic, Arthur reflected, but an effective one.

Although Camelot had enough in its stores to hold out for a siege of six months or more, neither Arthur nor Uther intended to wait that long. By that time, the people would be demoralized and tired. It was best to try and break the siege while the fighting spirit was still fresh. Uther had instructed his son to take a contingent of knights out of the side gates and use whatever force necessary to route the enemy hiding in the trees.

Arthur and his knights had barely ridden fifty yards out of the gate when Arthur saw a great fireball rise out of the trees and streak directly toward to the group of soldiers. He yanked his reigns to the side and yelled, "Scatter!" The column of knights split into two directions but several were not fast enough. The fireball struck the knights with an explosion that forced Arthur to shield his face. When he lowered his arm, nothing remained of the two unfortunate knights but ash. He continued riding for the tree line, but, even as more fire flew from the trees, a dense white mist rose up from the ground. Soon Arthur was unable to see further than the ears on his horse. His eyes began to water and every breath seared its way into his lungs with a burning fire. He started to cough violently. A fireball barely missed striking him and hit the ground so close that Arthur felt the impact of the explosion like a physical blow.

There was no way they could fight like this. Arthur refused to needlessly waste the lives of his men. He sounded the retreat and turned his mount in the direction opposite the way the fireball had come. He couldn't see anything in the burning fog but he desperately hoped he was riding in the right direction. He nearly rode straight into the city walls, pulling his steed up short just in time to avoid a collision. Arthur rode along the wall until he reached the open gate. Miraculously, the mist had not entered the city. It came up the gates and just stopped. Several knights had reached the relative safety of the city before Arthur and more were still coming.

Arthur ran to the top of the walls, trying to see through the mist for any survivors. He waited until he could no longer hear any commotion coming from outside the gates before he ordered them closed. Only sixteen knights had returned. As soon as the gates slammed shut, the mist dissipated in the wind. Looking out into the forest, Arthur glimpsed a tall, thin shadow moving between the trees. Arthur slowly descended the stairs to the ground. At least four of the knights who had ridden with him were badly burned.

Arthur's voice came out hoarse and raspy. "Take care of the wounded," he instructed his men. "I will report to the king myself."

- x - x - x - x - x -

In Gaius' study, Merlin dropped his book with a surprised exclamation. Gaius looked up sharply. "What is it?"

Merlin rubbed his temples and let out a slow breath. "I apologize. The force of his presence was…unexpected."

Concern clouded Gaius' features. "You mean…?"

Merlin nodded. "The one I contacted has broken through. He is in our world now."

- x - x - x - x - x -

Uther slammed his hand down on the table where he was reviewing the latest reports of Camelot's predicament. "What are they after?" Arthur glanced at the knights and councillors around the table. No one offered an answer. "They've had us walled in our own city for a week now without so much as a demand for surrender. They clearly command powerful magic; why only besiege us? Why not simply attack?"

Gaius spoke up. "It may not be as simple as that, Sire. The physical castle of Camelot, as you may recall, was itself said to have been built with the aid of magic; legend has it that powerful wards were woven into the city as it was built. There's still a great deal we don't understand about the city's origins. It may be that our foe is reluctant to face us inside the city because the city itself fights against them."

"There may be another reason, as well, my lords." The captain of the guard indicated the map of the city on the table between them. "My men have been watching the woods day and night attempting to learn everything we can about our enemy." The captain looked at the faces around the table as he spoke. "Those we face may be powerful sorcerers, but they do not have great numbers. We estimate there are fifteen of them at most. It's difficult to say with certainty because they are always spread out and never seen clearly."

Arthur looked up, intrigued. "Only fifteen? If we could just deploy our forces, we could easily wipe them out, sorcerers or not."

Uther nodded in agreement. "Precisely why they watch our gates and keep us caged like animals. The gates which protect us also prevent us from getting our full force into the field before they can rout us from afar."

Arthur sat up. "If they were otherwise occupied, we might be able to get enough of the army into play to take control of the situation." There was a gleam in his eye that meant the young prince had a plan.

The king looked to his son, clearly intrigued. "How do you propose we keep them busy?"

"There must be a way for us to get a message to Sir Leon at the western garrison. He could bring a force large enough to divert their attention from the city and allow us to send out our men."

Everyone around the table looked hopeful, but Uther shook his head. "But we have no way of contacting the western garrison. At best, we must hope that word of our situation reaches them on its own."

Arthur was about to argue for his plan, convinced they could come up with a way to contact the garrison if they all put their heads together, when he saw Merlin staring straight at him. Merlin had been silently standing behind Gaius the entire meeting, staring straight ahead. Arthur was surprised to see those dark eyes boring into his own. As he looked, Merlin mouthed a single word. _Druid._ Arthur was puzzled, to say the least. Why would Merlin be talking about Druids now?

Then Arthur remembered the young Druid boy they had rescued from Camelot's dungeons. And Arthur remembered _how_ they had smuggled the child out of the castle: The secret passage out of Camelot. "There are other ways out of the city, father, ways our enemy won't know about, ways they won't be watching."

Uther considered this. "Yes," he admitted slowly, "but we couldn't possibly use them to get an army out of the city. Our enemy isn't blind; they would see a force of any size."

"But," Arthur countered, "a single man might be able to get through. A single man could take a message to the western garrison." Uther said nothing. Arthur took that as a good sign. "Let me go, father. I will reach Leon and return with aid for Camelot."

"Absolutely not!" Uther refused to even consider the idea. "Yours is one of the best known faces in the kingdom. You couldn't possibly hope to reach the western garrison without being recognized. With our patrols penned in the castle, the roads will be filled with unsavoury characters of all sorts. I won't sanction your travelling alone through dangerous roads."

"I will go." Every pair of eyes at the table suddenly stared at Merlin. Arthur felt an inexplicable feeling of dread settle in the pit of his stomach. Merlin repeated himself. "I will go." Still no one said anything, so Merlin continued. "I am not known outside the castle, no one will recognize me. A servant travelling alone will raise much less suspicion than a prince travelling alone. And if I am caught, you will not have lost any valuable resources. What is the loss of a single servant? You will still be free to try again or try a different plan. Is it not logical to attempt Arthur's plan if it can be done with minimal risk to the city?"

Silence reigned. Finally Arthur found his voice. "N-no!" he said shakily. "You can't—"

Uther silenced him with an upraised hand. "The boy is right, Arthur. We can't afford to risk you on this mission, but if there's a chance he can succeed, we should take it."

Arthur was dumbfounded. What had possessed Merlin to volunteer for this? It would be dangerous enough for a trained knight. For Merlin it was essentially a suicide mission. Arthur glanced at Gaius and saw the worry and fear that he felt reflected in the physician's face as well. But what could he do? The king had spoken. The meeting concluded shortly afterwards. No one had any other ideas to break the siege. Arthur wished he had never spoken up with his plan. It had seemed so reasonable when he had intended to go himself. Now that Merlin was going instead, Arthur found himself unable to think of anything except all the ways it could go wrong.

Arthur caught Gaius before he could return to his tower. "Gaius," Arthur forced himself to be calm and pleasant, "may I borrow Merlin back for a moment? I'm afraid I need…something."

Arthur was certain Gaius was already mentally preparing a lecture for Merlin to try and talk him out of his idiotic plan, but he seemed willing to let Arthur go first. "Yes, Sire."

"Thank you, Gaius. I'll send him along to you shortly." Gaius nodded and Merlin fell into step beside Arthur. Once they were alone in Arthur's chambers, Arthur turned on Merlin. "So if you die, which you must realize is the most likely outcome, we won't have lost any 'valuable resources'?" He didn't bother to try and keep the anger from his voice. "Merlin, is that how you think I see you? As just an expendable servant? I can't believe you would say that!"

Merlin seemed completely unphased by Arthur's outburst. "Whether you accept it or not," he said calmly, "it is the truth of the matter. A Prince of Camelot is more important than his servant."

Arthur wanted to slap his servant. "Not to me," he said simply. "Not you."

"Your denial does not make it less true."

Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and physically shook the boy. "What do I have to do break through to you? What happened to my Merlin? What happened to my friend?"

Merlin gazed dully into Arthur's eyes. "He was weak."

Arthur stared at Merlin in disbelief. He stepped back, horrified at what he heard. "What has happened to you?"

Merlin shook his head and addressed Arthur the way he might speak to a small child. "I have simply outgrown my childish ideals and I am seeing the world as it truly is. Something you might wish to consider yourself."

Arthur felt a tightness constricting his throat. "Fine!" He shouted as he threw open the door. "Go! Go and get yourself killed. It's not like I'll be losing a valuable resource. Should I start looking for a new manservant now or wait until your broken corpse is lobbed over the city walls?"

Merlin paused in the hallway. "There is not," he pointed out matter-of-factly, "likely to be a corpse. Our enemy seem to prefer incinerating their victims." While Arthur stood in mute shock, Merlin turned and walked away without another word. Arthur slammed the door behind him. His knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed on the floor leaning against the door, his shoulders heaving with each racking breath. Finally he allowed the tears to fall, silently sobbing as he listened to Merlin's footsteps disappear down the corridor.

- x - x - x - x - x -

When he reached Gaius' tower, Merlin endured much the same speech as he had just received from Arthur. Merlin waited until Gaius had finally talked himself out before saying, "Gaius, I am the _only_ one who can undertake this mission, you must realize that." Gaius remained stubbornly silent. "If it comes to a confrontation with them," Merlin went on, "no one else has even a slight hope of survival."

"I'm not exactly relieved to know that your chances hang on a 'slight hope,'" retorted Gaius. "Uther was right, this plan is too risky. Camelot is well-known throughout the land. Others will notice that travel to and from Camelot has ceased, and word of our plight will eventually reach Leon."

"How long will it be before rumours and whispers become substantial enough for Leon to investigate them?" Merlin asked. "And then what? He will send a small group to investigate and report back. Only after they walk into a trap and fail to report back will Leon finally realize he needs to come in force."

"Our supplies will last for months. Why take the risk?"

"Gaius, we do not know how long these people will be content to simply keep us caged. More of them may be coming. They may be preparing to assault the city directly. Right now, they are content to siege the city. We must act now, before that changes. It is the most logical course of action."

Gaius reluctantly relented. "I know that, Merlin, but it doesn't make this any easier."

"I am quite capable of looking after myself, Gaius."

"Yes, you certainly are, but be careful all the same. Even you are not invulnerable."

"Of course."

"When will you leave?"

Merlin glanced out the window and saw that the moon was already high in the sky. "As soon as possible. I see no reason to delay any longer than necessary."

Gaius folded Merlin in an awkward embrace which Merlin did not return. "Be careful," Gaius repeated.

- x - x - x - x - x -

Outside of Camelot, barely visible in the dim light of the moon and stars, a small patch of stonework in the city walls quietly swung open. A single figure stepped out through the opening and the stone door closed again. After glancing around to get his bearings, Merlin struck out on a course due west.

High above in the physicians' tower, Gaius watched out of his window until long after Merlin had disappeared into the darkness. Finally he moved to his small dining table and poured a cup of heavily-spiced wine. Gaius didn't often drink, but tonight he felt he needed it.

Across the castle, Arthur Pendragon had fallen asleep leaning against his bedroom door, dreaming of the friend he was certain he would never see again.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Arthur stalked the halls and corridors of the castle wishing he had something to do other than wait for something to happen. The knights didn't need him looking over their shoulders as they patrolled the city. His father was, at present, content to wait until they learned whether or not Merlin's mission succeeded before they made another attempt to break the siege. It had been four days since Merlin had left. If he made good time, if he was still alive, it would take at least six days for him to reach the western garrison. After that, it would take at least a day, maybe two, for Leon to muster the army and prepare to return. The army, of course, wouldn't be able to move as quickly as a single man, even the relatively small force housed in the garrison. It would probably be a full week before the army reached Camelot.

Arthur added all the figures in his head. It would be at least eleven more days before they could expect to see any results from Merlin's mission. Eleven days during which they wouldn't even know if Merlin had survived his first night. He stormed around a corner and surprised several maids who had been scrubbing the floors. Without even a word of apology, he stalked on. Waiting was always the hardest part of any campaign, but Arthur was accustomed to the tense monotony of waiting for something to happen. This time was different. Whenever he was unoccupied, which was most of the time, he couldn't stop his mind from turning over the last time he had spoken to Merlin.

Arthur felt simultaneously angry with Merlin for the way the boy was acting, furious with himself for the way he had treated Merlin, depressed by the certainty that he would never see Merlin again, and…and…and a dozen other emotions he couldn't even begin to name. Why, oh, why could he not stop thinking about Merlin? He stopped at a westward-facing window and gazed at the road which led to the western garrison. Was Merlin somewhere out there right now? Or had he already fallen prey to one of the many dangers that filled Arthur's dreams?

"Arthur?"

"What?" Arthur snapped, "I'm busy." When no answer came, Arthur turned to see who had spoken. Guinevere stood in the hall, looking shocked at Arthur's tone. Arthur immediately regretted his rashness. "Gwen," he hurried to apologize, "Gwen, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you." He turned back to the window with a sigh. "I'm just on edge; not that it's an excuse."

Gwen laid a gentle hand on his arm. "We've noticed," she said softly.

"We?" echoed Arthur.

"Servants talk, Arthur." Her voice was kind but concerned. "Everyone can see you're bothered. What's wrong? It's not just the siege, is it? We've been through worse situations than this." If anyone else had asked, Arthur would have dismissed them out of hand, but Arthur had known Gwen his entire life. She was the closest thing he had to a childhood friend, despite their class difference. "Arthur?" prompted Gwen.

Arthur glanced up and down the hall. It seemed very public. "Would it be too improper of me to ask if you would accompany me to my chambers?" he asked.

Gwen smiled. "I think I can allow it."

Once they were alone in his room, Arthur found he couldn't stop himself from pouring his heart out to Gwen. It surprised him to realize how much he wanted to talk about what had been happening. He just hadn't thought there was anyone who could listen. When Arthur finally finished, he had completely lost track of time. "A month ago," he was saying, "he was in such a state that it broke my heart just to look at him. But I'd rather have him back like that than face the emotionless automaton he's turned into." He looked at Gwen to see her reaction. "That's horrible of me, isn't it?"

Gwen studied Arthur for a moment. He felt oddly exposed beneath her gaze. "I don't know, Arthur. It doesn't sound to me like Merlin ever got over his trouble in the first place; maybe he just buried it because he couldn't face it."

"I just don't know how to live like this," Arthur said. "It's like I'm trying to feel enough emotion for both of us, and it's exhausting!" Arthur groaned and cradled his head in his hands. "What is happening to me!?"

Gwen tilted her head slightly to the side with a bemused look. "Oh, Arthur," her voice was filled with sympathy, "you won't like the answer."

"What do you mean? Why won't I like it?"

She smiled. "Because you already know the answer yourself, but you won't admit it." Arthur shook his head, not understanding. "Listen to your own words, Arthur. You said looking at him 'broke your heart.'"

"It's just an expression."

"One you've ever used before?"

"Well, no, not that I can recall."

"Mm-hmm. And Merlin is all you can think about, day and night?"

"Guinevere," Arthur replied stiffly, "what are you getting at?"

"Arthur, you're in love."

Arthur started at that. "With who?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "With Merlin, of course."

"But that can't—"

"Oh, yes, Arthur, it can." Silence hung between them for a long while as Arthur considered her words.

"I should never have let him leave."

"Merlin is more resourceful than you give him credit for. He'll be alright, Arthur. Besides, if you'd tried to stop him, he would only have figured out another way to go," Gwen said. "He's really very brave that way."

"He is brave," Arthur agreed, "and loyal and the best friend a man could hope for."

"And kind of cute," put in Gwen.

Arthur ignored her. "But…in love with him?"

Gwen stood. "I suspect you need some time to think; I'll leave you be. But, Arthur?" He looked up. "You know where to find me if you need a friendly ear." Arthur smiled gratefully and nodded.

- x - x - x - x - x -

At that moment, many leagues away, Merlin could see the battlements of Camelot's western garrison. He had made the journey, which should have taken a week, in just over three days. It helped that he had gone the whole time without stopping to sleep or eat or even rest. Drawing his energy from the world around him, Merlin had plunged into the forest and hadn't stopped until he had reached the garrison. The journey had taken its toll, though. The vitality stolen from others could only replace food and sleep for so long. By the time Merlin spied the towers over the treetops, it was all he could do keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Merlin had nearly reached the outpost when he stumbled over a dead tree root he hadn't noticed in his path. With a cry, he crashed to the earth face-first and lay still. His mind raged at his body to get up but there simply wasn't enough energy left in his body to comply. Darkness began to cloud the edges of his vision when he heard horses. With a supreme effort, Merlin pushed back the darkness and remained conscious. The horses came to a stop nearby and he heard men talking.

"What's this?"

"He looks like a traveller."

"Don't just sit there. One of you get down and see if he needs help."

"Yes, sir."

Rough hands turned Merlin onto his back. The one who had ordered the others to help spoke again. "Good night! That's the prince's servant!"

"He doesn't look to be in the best of shape does he?"

Merlin's eyes swam into focus and found saw the knight still astride his horse. "Leon?" he croaked weakly.

Leon got down from his horse and knelt down by Merlin's side. "Yes, that's right. It's Merlin, isn't it?"

Merlin's vision began to swim again but he managed to grab the front of Leon's tunic. "Muster the army. Camelot needs help." Then everything went black.

- x - x - x - x - x -

When Merlin returned to consciousness, he was laying in a bed in a small, windowless stone room lit by torches. He stirred and attracted the attention of the knight who was in the room with him.

"Good, you're awake," said the unknown knight. "Gave us quite the scare there, you did." Merlin recognized the voice as one of the men who had been with Leon earlier. Merlin started to say something but stopped at a throbbing pain in his head. He gently rubbed his forehead. "You'll probably have quite an headache for a bit," his companion informed him. "You were pretty dehydrated when we found you." The knight moved to a beside table where he picked up a pitcher and poured a cup of water which he handed to Merlin. "We got some broth down you while you were out. When you're feeling up to it, we'll get you some solid food."

Merlin tried to speak again and this time succeeded. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now, you'll have to excuse me. Sir Leon wants to be told as soon as you're awake. I think you can expect a visit from him shortly." The knight left the room.

Merlin sipped at the water until he felt confident enough to try a whole gulp. As the liquid washed down his throat, he felt his headache subside slightly. He drained the glass and reached over to pour himself another. This made his head throb painfully but he managed not to fall back onto the pillow. As he drained his second glass, Leon entered the room. He walked to a chair near the bed and sat down.

"Merlin," Leon smiled, "it's good to see you awake again."

"Thank you for your help," Merlin replied, "but I am afraid time is of the essence, right now."

"Yes," Leon agreed, "What's happened at Camelot?"

"Your forces— " Merlin began.

"Everyone within a day's ride is being recalled as we speak. We'll be ready to travel tomorrow."

"Good." Merlin took another drink of the water and began to explain Camelot's predicament to Leon. When he had concluded his tale, Leon shook his head in amazement.

"Fifteen sorcerers are holding the entire castle at bay?"

"They have magic like I have never seen before," Merlin said, honestly. "They have been able to completely prevent Camelot from deploying its forces."

Leon immediately understood. "You want to open a second front, as it were."

"Yes. If we can divide their attention, we may be able to get Camelot's knights into the fracas and put this enemy in its place."

"Even if we do defeat them," Leon said thoughtfully, "it won't come easy. Small numbers or not, if they're as powerful as you say they'll make us pay for each one of them we take down."

Merlin agreed. "I do not think anyone expects this to be easy."

"No, I suppose not." Leon rose from his chair. "You rest now. We'll speak more in the morning. If you'll excuse me, I have travel preparations to oversee." Leon stopped in the doorway and turned back. "Merlin, you've done a very good job to get us this information. Camelot is in your debt." Merlin, already half asleep again, murmured something Leon didn't understand. Leon chuckled and closed the door.

- x - x - x - x - x -

When Merlin awoke again, he was alone in the room. He cupped his hands drew some water from the pitcher which he splashed on his face. He opened the door and looked around. He was in a long hallway filled with doors, most of them shut, with windows at either end. By the light, it looked to be rather early in the morning. He heard noise coming from further down the hall, so he started toward it. He hadn't gone far when another knight stepped out of one of the other doors.

Merlin didn't recognize the man but apparently word of their visitor had spread through the garrison because the knight seemed to know who Merlin was. "Morning," he said cheerfully. You can find breakfast in the kitchen if you're hungry." The knight gestured down the hall where Merlin heard the noise. "Down the stairs at the end and then it's the third door on the left."

"I had hoped to speak with Sir Leon," Merlin replied. "Do you know where I might find him?"

The knight thought for a moment. "Probably out bright and early overseeing the last preparations before we leave," he said, adding as an afterthought, "If he slept at all last night, that is."

Merlin thanked the knight for his help and followed the directions to the kitchen. The kitchen was mad with activity as people tried to get breakfast and pack provisions for the road. Merlin found a quiet corner where he could stay out of the way and finish a plate of fruit and bread. Refreshed and ready to get back to work, Merlin went out into the yard to find Leon.

Leon wasn't hard to spot, he was at the centre of all the hubbub, shouting commands and attempting to order the chaos. He spied Merlin and hollered down from the top of a wagon, "Ho, Merlin! Wait a moment, I'll be right over." Leon caught a large barrel of something that had been tossed up to him from the ground and stowed it in the wagon. He jumped down from the seat and came to Merlin. "Some of us," he said with mock disapproval, "find it necessary to travel with food and drink. You won't have to worry about starving yourself on the way back."

"About that," Merlin began, "I do not think I shall be travelling with you."

Worry flashed across Leon's friendly face. "Still under the weather after your trip here? I can't say I'm surprised given the state you were in. Don't worry, this place won't be completely abandoned. You can stay as long as you need."

"No, that will not be necessary."

Worry turned to puzzlement. "What then?"

"I was thinking last night; it would be better if Camelot knew when you were due to arrive. The best result will be achieved if they are ready to attack as soon as you arrive."

Leon could see what Merlin was thinking, and it was obvious he didn't like it. "Merlin, you don't have to travel back alone. At least stay with us until we're a day or two out, and then you can go on ahead."

Merlin shook his head. "I can make better time on my own. It will do Camelot's morale a great deal of good if they know you are coming. Do not worry; I will not push myself as hard as I did to get here."

"And you'll take some provisions with you," Leon stated; it was definitely a command, not a suggestion. "I should have words with Arthur when all this is done for letting you leave without a scrap of food or water in the first place."

"It was not Arthur's fault. I thought I could find what I needed on the road."

Leon was firm. "You know better now. And if you try to leave without proper provisions again, I'll have you tied up in the supply wagon."

Merlin was nearly certain he was joking, but he did have a point. "I will take whatever you can spare me."

Leon signalled someone over to them to collect a travel pack for Merlin. He started to send the man off when another thought struck him. "Fetch a weapon, too," Leon added. Merlin tried to protest but Leon would have none of it. "Nothing too large, nothing that will draw attention on the road, but blast if I'm going to send you out without something to defend yourself. Arthur would have my head if something happened to you." Merlin arched an eyebrow. Leon gave him an appraising gaze. "You really don't realize how fond he is of you, do you? You should hear how he speaks of you when you're not around." Merlin had no reply to that. Leon clapped him on the shoulder and left to finish preparing the army to leave.

- x - x - x - x - x -

Gaius realized, not for the first time that day, that he had been staring at a book for several minutes without actually reading it. He dragged his attention back to the task at hand and ran his finger back along the page. "Now where was I? Ah, yes, here we are." While Merlin was gone, Gaius was continuing to research blood magic and portals to the otherworld. He had not learned anything of use, but he refused to give up hope. After exhausting his own library, he had scoured the castle's library for anything that might shed light on the dilemma. He was trying to go through all the new material, but he couldn't stop worrying about Merlin.

Merlin had been gone for a full week now. If all had gone well, he would have made contact with Sir Leon by now, and Leon would be preparing to set out for Camelot. Gaius was sorely tempted to try a scrying spell to see if he could find out how Merlin had done. He kept reminding himself that it wasn't worth the risk. Gaius had never been a seer, anyway; he'd never had much luck with scrying. He realized he had lost his place again. "Oh, blast!" He returned to the top of the page and began again.

There was a knock at the door. Gaius got up, slowly, massaging a crick in his neck as he did so. "Coming, coming," he called out. He opened the door and found Arthur. "Sire, what a pleasant surprise, come in." Arthur walked into the room without saying anything. "Did you need something?" Gaius prompted.

Arthur toyed with one of the many empty glass bottles that cluttered Gaius' workbench. "I wondered if you had any more of that valerian root. I slept better than I had for ages the other night you gave me some."

"I certainly do," Gaius affirmed. He retrieved the box and got out several more envelopes which he gave to Arthur. "I can't say I've been sleeping well myself, lately. With so much to worry about, it's hard to rest the mind even when the body is tired." He closed the box and put it back on the shelf. Arthur slid the envelopes into a tunic pocket and continued poking around Gaius' workbench. "Was there something else, Sire?"

"Yes, actually," Arthur admitted. Gaius sat down and waited for Arthur to continue. He had known the prince as long as Arthur had been alive, and he knew that Arthur would come to his point in his own time. It would be no use trying to rush him. Arthur cleared his throat and began. "One of my knights," he ventured, "has run into some trouble." Long experience told Gaius that this wasn't a medical problem that required a physician.

Nodding sagely, Gaius tried not to smile at Arthur's obvious discomfort. "One of the knights, of course." It didn't take much work on Gaius' part to deduce the identity of the knight in question, but Arthur looked nervous enough already. Gaius decided not torment the young prince.

Arthur went on, "He's fallen in love." Bushy white eyebrows lifted. "At least," he hurried to add, "he might have. I don't know; it's confusing. It's not exactly what you might call a 'traditional' relationship, and it's certainly not someone the king would consider a 'suitable match.'" Arthur studied the empty phial in his hands as though it might have all the answers he sought. "It might be too late, anyways. Something's happened to, uh, the object of his affections; something's made them cold, distant."

Gaius considered his words carefully. "Love is a funny thing, simultaneously wonderful and frightening, and notoriously difficult to predict. It tends to pop up in odd places. But trying to fight it," Gaius made a face, "doesn't usually go well for anybody."

Arthur looked up. "But how…what if someone were…" Arthur stopped, flustered with himself.

Gaius decided to throw caution to the wind. Arthur had clearly guessed some of what had happened to Merlin, even if he didn't know the true cause. "What if magic had been used to change someone? Perhaps, somehow removing the love from their heart?" Arthur nodded vigorously. "It's not impossible," Gaius acknowledged.

"How would you break such a spell?"

Gaius said nothing for a long time. Then, "I don't know." He could see Arthur's spirits fall at his words. "But if anything could break it, it would be, as the fables say, true love. Love is a power far older and, in its own way, much more powerful than magic." Arthur looked sceptical. "Arthur, do you know the tale of Deirdre and Naoise?" The prince shook his head, and Gaius patted the stool next to his chair. "Sit down, Arthur.

"One night, long ago, the King of Ulster was holding a celebration with much feasting and singing when a seer interrupted things, as seers often do, with a prophecy. The seer singled out one of the men of the king's court and said that he would have a daughter of surpassing beauty. In fact, her beauty would be so great that she would be the cause of wars and would cause the king's army to divide against itself.

"After hearing this, the king's advisors urged him to kill the child as soon as she was born. The king, though, had been entranced by the talk of her beauty, and wished to have her as his queen. When the child, Deirdre, was born, she was immediately taken from her parents and raised in seclusion by an old woman, all the while being groomed to be the king's bride when she came of age. True to the prophecy, she grew into the most beautiful maiden in all the land.

"One night, Deirdre had a dream. She dreamt about a handsome young man who would come and rescue her from her lonely life. Deirdre confided her dream to the old woman who was raising her. Deirdre's guardian was not a cruel woman and she felt sorry for the young girl forced to live in seclusion with only an elderly spinster for company. When Deirdre described the man she saw in her dreams, her guardian recognized him as one of the king's young knights, a man named Naoise.

"When the time had come for Deirdre to be brought before the king, the old woman arranged for Naoise to be the one sent to retrieve Deirdre. As soon as they met, Deirdre recognized Naoise from her dreams. She begged him to rescue her from her fate. Naoise, being a man of honour, couldn't refuse her desperate pleas. Instead of returning to the king, they fled into the wilderness where they fell in love and lived happily for several years.

"As you might imagine, the king was quite upset. He ordered a hunt for the young couple, eventually locating them. Naoise had supporters of his own, though, and they weren't inclined to simply let the king have his way. The battle that followed was very fierce. However, the king was able to force a powerful Druid to help him, and, eventually, Naoise was killed and Deirdre recaptured. The king ordered her imprisoned and returned to Ulster to be wed to him. But rather than marry the king, on the way back to Ulster, Deirdre threw herself out of a chariot and dashed her head upon a rock, dying instantly."

Arthur sat dumbfounded. "Gaius, that's awful! Was that supposed to make me feel better? Why did you tell me that?"

"It is, indeed, terrible," Gaius said. "After their deaths, the bodies of Deirdre and Naoise were taken and buried together in the woods. The trees around their graves grew so thick and entwined, they became an impenetrable wall. Their graves, Arthur, are at the heart of the enchanted forest which you know today as the Perilous Lands."

"You mean the kingdom of the Fisher King?"

"One and the same. Without any magic, Arthur, the love of two people created an enchantment so powerful that it endures to this day. Love does not always behave as we expect it to, but where you find true love, you will find a power even magic can not defeat. And magic has never—never, you understand?—been able to create love."

"But I've heard about love spells," Arthur protested.

Gaius pish-poshed and waved a hand dismissively. "Hogwash and frauds—mostly. There are spells that can create infatuation, but they're nearly impossible to cast on someone who is already in love, and real love will always undo them."

Arthur thanked Gaius for his advice and left without saying much, clearly deep in thought. Gaius leaned back in his chair and smiled contentedly. "There may be hope for Merlin, after all," he told himself. Turning back to his books he became serious again. "Of course, first we have to survive this siege."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Merlin cautiously walked through the woods. Even though Camelot was still more than a league away, he wasn't sure how far out the enemy might be found. He could sense them in the forest in a vague, generalized way, but he couldn't tell if any of them were nearby. He didn't believe they were intentionally masking themselves; given the power they had demonstrated thus far, Merlin was certain that if they were trying to hide, he could walk right past them without suspecting a thing. Something in their nature was simply so alien that it made it difficult to sense them like he did any other living thing.

As he had promised Leon, Merlin hadn't pushed himself so hard on his return journey. It was the afternoon of the fifth day after Merlin had left the western garrison—ten days since he left Camelot. Leon's forces would only be a couple days behind Merlin. Now Merlin just needed to get safely back into Camelot and let the people know that help was coming. Merlin knew that the odds were against his being able to safely cross the gap between the forest and city in broad daylight. _Best I wait for nightfall before trying._ Merlin knew this was the most dangerous part of his mission, particularly since he would have to return to the city via the gates because the secret passage could only be opened from the inside. It let people out of Camelot but not back in again.

Merlin weighed the benefit of a more cautious approach: Waiting for Leon to arrive and aiding as he could in the attack. But Leon would be arriving more than half-a-week before the earliest Camelot would expect him. The army might not be ready to deploy and valuable time would be lost. Leon's forces were not large; they would only provide distraction for a limited time. If Camelot did not respond quickly enough, the entire plan could fall to pieces. There really wasn't a choice. Merlin had to return to Camelot and alert them. He decided to find a place to hide until nightfall.

Merlin turned off the road and searched for anything that might effectively conceal him. He was examining a hollow tree, when he thought he heard the whisper of metal sliding against metal behind him. Before he could turn around, he felt the sharpness of a blade on the side of his neck.

"Turn around, then," commanded a man's voice, "slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them." Merlin did as instructed, holding his hands well out from his sides. When he turned around, he found himself facing three poorly-dressed men, highwaymen, Merlin judged, all pointing swords at him. "Dangerous things on the roads, these days," said the man who had spoken before, whose sword was still applying an unpleasant pressure against Merlin's neck. Merlin took him to be the leader. "If you believe the rumours, that is. They say terrible things are happening to people going to Camelot."

Merlin ventured a reply. "And yet, here you are."

"Well," said the man expansively, "thing is, the knights don't seem to want be out on the roads any more than the rest of us. Makes things nice and easy for, ahem, men of opportunity. Now, how about you empty that pack of yours and we'll see what you've got, eh?" The man stepped back and gestured to Merlin's pack with his sword. It was all the opening Merlin needed.

"_Rhyddhau'r dŵr!_"

The three men had just enough time to look shocked before they began to clutch at their chests and scream. Steam began to rise from their skin, slowly at first, but soon it poured off every bit of exposed skin. The men fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Skin began to wither and wilt as every drop of water was forced out of their bodies. The screaming ceased as the vocal chords were desiccated, but the men continued convulsing for several more minutes. When the steam finally stopped, the flesh hung from their bones like grotesque curtains. For a moment, the three bodies just lay there; then they crumbled to dust.

Merlin nodded with satisfaction, and then froze. As before, the first time he had contacted the strange presence in the otherworld, he suddenly saw a presence snap into focus in his mind's eye. First one, then two, then two more. As the strange creatures turned their attention to him, they blazed in his mind like comets. Glancing around, Merlin saw distant shadows moving through the trees. There was no running, now, he knew. Summoning his strength, Merlin cleared his mind and prepared to fight.

It was no contest. Before he could even clearly see his foes, a beam of blue light blazed from the trees and knocked Merlin off his feet. His world had gone black by the time he hit the ground.

- x - x - x - x - x -

"_Deffro._"

The command sunk through unconsciousness and permeated Merlin to the core of his being. He didn't hear the word so much as feel it. It came again.

"_Deffro._"

Merlin's eyes blinked open, much to his surprise. He hadn't expected ever to wake again after being attacked in the forest. He felt a hand lift from his brow, presumably belonging whoever had cast the spell to wake him. It took a moment for his vision to come into focus. He was lying on his back in the woods and, aside from a cord bound around his head and wedged tightly between his jaws, preventing him from speaking, he appeared to be unbound. His pack was missing, but none of his possessions had been taken, including the small knife that Leon had insisted he take. He sat up and saw, to his surprise, that he was lying on a bed of sorts.

Several bushes had been twined together, their branches and leaves making a surprisingly comfortable and solid surface the size of a small bed. It couldn't have occurred naturally, but there no way the branches could have been woven like that without breaking them—unless it had been done with magic. The bed was in the centre of a small clearing. Merlin looked around and saw about half-a-dozen men and women watching him. They were tall, Merlin estimated the shortest of them was seven feet tall. They were slender but not twig-thin. Each of them was fit and toned with bodies that suggested more power than might be assumed at first glance. They all had long, flowing hair framing angular faces.

"Hello again, friend."

Merlin recognized the voice. It was the same one that had spoken to him the day he broke the barrier between this world and the otherworld. It was as mellifluous in person as it had sounded in his head. Merlin turned around and saw a man sitting on a throne that appeared to have grown directly out of a tree on the edge of the clearing. The man occupying the throne was, even to Merlin's disinterested gaze, possibly the most handsome man Merlin had ever seen. Intelligent green eyes sparkled beneath his long black hair, which was tied behind his neck. He wore...they had to be clothes, didn't they? They were fabric and they were on his body, but there didn't seem to be enough of them to call them clothes. They were the sort of clothes designed not so much to preserve the wearer's modesty as to make sure everyone who saw him would know just how much he enjoyed his immodesty.

"We've been waiting for you." He smiled and spoke conversationally, as though chatting with a friend rather than addressing a prisoner. "That city of yours is surprisingly well-protected, I must say." He looked away into the forest and Merlin got the impression he was seeing through the trees to Camelot; his smile faltered just a bit. When he looked back at Merlin, his face was a friendly mask once more. "But I knew eventually you would come to us if we waited. Curiosity, greed, anger…whatever motive drove you to come here, it was no coincidence. You've been caught up by forces greater than a mere mortal can comprehend.

"I'm sorry about the gag," he added, "I'm sure it must be uncomfortable. You have a dangerous tongue, though, don't you?" His eyes narrowed. "Until we know you a bit better, I'm afraid we just can't risk you trying to cast a spell." Merlin stood unmoving and expressionless. "Ah, but where are my manners? I believe introductions would be proper, yes?" Standing, he drew himself up with an air of great beneficence to his audience. "I," grand, dramatic pause, "am Lugus." He waited, apparently expecting a reaction from Merlin, but none was forthcoming. Lugus frowned and continued. "I would ask your name, friend, but," he tapped his mouth, indicating Merlin's gag, "we'll have to do without such social niceties."

Lugus swept his arm around the clearing. "These are my people, the Tuatha de Danann." Again he looked for some sign of recognition from Merlin. "Have you really not heard of us?" He seemed genuinely perplexed. "The people of Danu, the mother goddess? Do you know nothing of the gods of your people?" Merlin shook his head. Lugus relaxed on his throne. "It seems a history lesson is in order." He steepled his fingers in front of himself. "Where to begin? The Tuatha de Dannan are, rather, we _were_," he corrected himself with a trace of bitterness, "the last and youngest generation of gods to rule this land. Before we rose to power, your people were under the thumb of the cruel, abhorrent Fomorii. The Fomorii rose from the sea, crawled out onto the land, and crushed your people under their iron will, demanding unbearable tributes. Our great mother, Danu, was so sorrowful for the plight of your people that she gave us life so we might force the Fomorii back into the ocean depths were they belonged.

"For many years, we governed the land in peace. We civilized you and elevated you above common savages. We taught you magic. We showed you how to take the life blood of another creature and use its power to accomplish things you never believed possible." Lugus paused and his expression turned sour. "And how did you thank us? You turned on us, called us barbaric relics of the violent past." Merlin could hear the malice underneath every word Lugus spoke. "You actually succeeded in exiling us from this world."

For a moment, all was silent. Then Lugus smiled and the atmosphere relaxed. "But that's all in the past. Aeons ago, in fact. That can all change, now that a new blood mage has arisen. Incidentally, how did it happen? How did you discover blood magic? Clearly, you didn't summon us intentionally. Did you cut yourself while you were working a spell? Accidentally spill some blood?" Merlin's memory recalled the night he cast the changing spell in vivid detail. He had been drawing the magic circle on the stone. His hands had been slick with sweat. He slipped; his hand was gouged open on the sharp rock. Blood had mingled with the chalk as he finished the circle. Merlin's eyes widened in surprise at the revelation. Lugus' smile widened into a grin. "You did, didn't you?" He sounded like a delighted child. "You worked your very first bit of blood magic completely by accident.

"I must admit, you are one of the most powerful blood magicians we've seen in a very long time. Most don't even have the strength to break the barrier, and you managed it in just days!" He seemed actually impressed. "When your ancient forbearers banished us," Lugus explained, "they sealed us in our own homes, the otherworlds. They used blood magic to barricade our worlds from yours. Only a blood magician can break the seal and allow us to return to this realm." Lugus indicated the men and women around him. "These are only a few of my people," he said, "The ones who were with me in my home." He rose from the throne and slowly advanced on Merlin. His voice grew softer with each step. "But there are many more: More of my people in countless realms, beyond even your reach, waiting to return to this world."

Lugus reached Merlin and his voice became barely more than a whisper. "We can bring them to us, dear boy, together." He took one of Merlin's hands in both of his. His touch felt cold. "All we need is a drop of blood." Merlin did not like the gleam in Lugus' eyes. "Just one drop of your blood, willingly sacrificed, will bring all my people back." Lugus traced a finger from Merlin's hand and up his arm as he circled the young wizard. The touch of cold traced its way along Merlin's shoulder blades as Lugus came back around. He leaned down until his lips grazed Merlin's ear. The feeling of Lugus' breath running down the back of Merlin's neck made an involuntary shiver run down his spine—and not because of the cold. Something about Lugus reached past all of Merlin's defences and hit him on a purely biological level. "Of course," Lugus' hand traced the outline of Merlin's jaw, "you'll find us _very_ grateful to the one who helps to reunite us."

Merlin drew in a quavering breath. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. Being near Lugus made it difficult to think clearly. Duty. He had a duty, and a destiny. He had to protect Arthur. That was what mattered. Quick as a flash, Merlin had slipped from between Lugus' arms, drawn his dagger, and pressed it to the self-proclaimed god's throat.

Lugus laughed. It was an unpleasant laugh, the sort of laugh that would send chills up your spine if you heard it behind you on a dark night. Merlin tried to slash the blade across Lugus' throat, but he never got the chance. In one fluid movement, Lugus turned, pushed Merlin's arm away, twisted it so the blade fell from his hand, and grabbed Merlin's throat, lifting him into the air until they were eye-to-eye, all in the time it took Merlin to blink. "Oh, you foolish boy," his eyes gleamed wolfishly and his smile grew as cold as his touch. "This could have been so much more enjoyable." Lugus released his grip but Merlin did not fall to the ground. Merlin rose higher into the air and moved into the centre of the clearing. As one the Tuatha de Dannan began to chant in a language that Merlin could not recognize. Their chanting swelled and Merlin felt pain begin to sear his feet. It felt as though he were being lowered into molten metal. He clenched his jaw around the gag, refusing to give in. The pain slowly began to creep up his legs. He glanced down, half expecting to actually see the orange glow of fiery hot molten iron creeping up his limbs.

"One drop of blood," said Lugus in a sing-song voice. "That's all it will take to make this stop." The pain was too much too bear. Merlin's cries of agony rang through the forest despite the gag.

- x - x - x - x - x -

In Camelot, in the middle of the night, Arthur woke in a panic from dead sleep. His chest was heaving, his hands were trembling, and his blankets were damp with perspiration. He ran a hand across his forehead where his hair had been plastered down by a cold sweat. He was certain he had been having a dream—or was it a nightmare? He couldn't remember. Something awful had happened, or was going to happen, or… "I don't know," he moaned aloud.

He tried to remember what he had been dreaming, but his mind remained stubbornly blank. The panic began to slip away from him, but the feeling of foreboding remained. As his breathing slowed, he began to feel calmer. "Tomorrow," he told himself, "I'm putting the knights on constant readiness. I don't care if Leon isn't supposed to be here for another week." Something was coming, and Arthur intended to be ready for it.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Pain was the only world Merlin knew any more. Pain so intense it clouded his vision, plugged his ears, and closed his mind to the outside world. His body writhed and screamed, unable to make the pain stop. Merlin was only vaguely aware of what was happening to his body. The physical world had long ago faded into a distant memory; time had lost all meaning. Even by retreating into the darkest corners of his mind, though, Merlin could not escape from the pain. It was everywhere.

_Protect Arthur._

The words kept swirling through the haze of pain that flooded his mind. Merlin had latched onto them as an anchor on his sanity and reality.

_Protect Arthur._

He repeated the simple phrase over and over endlessly in the silence of his mind, trying to focus on the words instead of the pain. He kept repeating the words until they had completely lost meaning and become just noisesome syllables and still he kept repeating them.

_Protect Arthur._

They were his lifeline, his purpose, his reason for being. As long as he held onto them, he could resist the searing pain.

_Protect Arthur._

_Protect Arthur._

_protectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectarth urprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectar thurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotect arthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprote ctarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurpro tectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurprotectarthurp rotectarthur…_

- x - x - x - x - x -

Arthur paced along the castle walls. While he walked, his eyes constantly searched the surrounding land for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. As usual, he found nothing, but he didn't stop looking. He passed a group of guards and saw one of them surreptitiously make a mark on the stone wall. They were probably making bets how many times he would circle the walls. Arthur rolled his eyes when he was out of sight; at least it gave them something to do. Idly he wondered what the stakes were. It had definitely been a good idea to raise the army to constant ready footing. People had something to do other than wait for something to happen. More importantly, Arthur had things to distract him. The Merlin issue, as Arthur had termed it, could be sorted out after the city was safe and Merlin was back.

As he walked along the north side of the castle, Arthur had to suppress a shudder. This was where the noise was the loudest. It had started late in the night the day before yesterday and continued almost ceaselessly ever since. Nobody knew what it was or what it meant. Arthur was sure it had something to do with the dream he couldn't remember; the timing was too coincidental. Arthur quickened his pace, trying to not listen. From somewhere in the forest came a horrible, keening inhuman moan; it rose and fell in an irregular rhythm, sometimes breaking, but always starting again before very long. If you stopped and listened for too long, you could almost imagine it was a human voice. Arthur's personal opinion was that Camelot's foe was trying to drive them mad. Certainly, nerves had been fraying ever since it had started.

Arthur turned a corner and started down the west side. About halfway down the west wall, the noise finally faded into the background, and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. He reached the end of the west wall and was about to continue down the south wall when he stopped and turned back to the west. Something wasn't right. Arthur scanned the land, trying to see what was out of place. He must have walked the walls dozens of times in the past two days; he was half-convinced that he would have noticed if one of the blades of grass had been moved.

He was nearly ready to give up, blaming whatever he had seen on imagination and wishful thinking, until he looked up to the horizon. Far away on the horizon, barely visible against the sky, a column of dust was rising above the treetops. Arthur stared at it, making sure he wasn't leaping to conclusions. It definitely wasn't smoke; it wasn't dark enough to be smoke, so it had to be dust. Dust could mean anything, though. Dust could mean reinforcements for their enemies. Leon would still be at least four days away.

All the boredom, anxiety, nerves, and troubles of the past weeks faded away as Arthur waited and watched the dust on the horizon. The sun rose higher and Arthur watched as the shadows below grew shorter and the column of dust drew nearer. Still he stood and watched. Just as the sun passed its zenith and began the long descent into the west, Arthur saw a flicker of movement in the trees. He focused on the forest where he had seen the motion, concentrating so hard he nearly forgot to breathe.

There it was again! Arthur's breath caught in his throat. Even at this distance, there was no mistaking it: A knight's standard held aloft, moving inexorably toward the city through the trees. The golden dragon rampant on the red flag had never looked so beautiful. Arthur turned and ran to the nearest stairs, practically tripping over himself in his rush to get to the ground. He knew their plight was far from over, but he couldn't help feeling elated. Merlin had reached Leon. Merlin was safe. As he tore through the castle corridors, Arthur nearly ran straight into Gwen.

Arthur stopped just long enough to make sure she was alright. "He did it, Gwen!"

Gwen took a moment to realize what Arthur meant. "Merlin?"

Arthur nodded, unable to stop the ear-to-ear grin from spreading across his face. "He did it! I don't know how, but he did. Find Gaius; find my father. Tell them that beautiful boy did it!" Arthur was away down the corridor before she could reply.

By the time he reached the training grounds, where all the knights not currently on assignment would be found, Arthur was all business. Arthur the Prince of Camelot and Arthur the Boy in Love weren't needed right now. Right now, he needed to be Arthur, Leader of his Knights. Knights were clustered all around the field, sparring, training, and drilling. Arthur strode out onto the field and called them to attention. He didn't wait for them to form up before shouting, "We ride today! Leon's forces are coming in. Grab your weapons, get your horses, and get to the gates, men! You know your places. Move!"

Arthur watched with pride as his knights leapt into action. They moved swiftly, each working like one part of a great machine. Confident they would all reach their assigned posts without his help, Arthur ran to the stables to get his own mount. Once he had, he rode through the city to the northern gate. His teeth set on edge as he neared the gate and the horrible keening filled the air once more. He had placed himself at the northern gate on the assumption that, since the noise seemed to be strongest here, the enemy might be grouped in the northern forest. Reaching the gate, Arthur called up to the gatehouse.

A watchman came out in response. "Sire?"

"You're ready with the signal?" Arthur inquired.

The guard held up his bow and indicated a brazier of hot coals. "Yes, Sire!"

"Good!" Arthur called back. "Remember, the western gate will be watching Leon's forces. If it looks like they come under attack, they'll fire their own signal and we'll ride out. Otherwise, when I call the charge, you're to fire a signal." The guard nodded his understanding. "Try not to hit anything in the city," Arthur joked. "I don't want to rescue Camelot only find it burned down because our signal hit a thatch roof."

The guard grinned. "I'll do my best."

Arthur moved off to join the knights grouped by the gate. Usually before a battle, the knights would brag of their prowess and laugh with the odd gallows humour that strikes men when they know they may be facing their death. Today they were silent. The tension was palpable in the air as they waited. Finally a squire ran up from the city; he came straight to Arthur.

"Everyone is in place, Sire."

"Leon's men?"

"Less than a quarter-league out, at our best guess."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you." The squire disappeared back into the city. Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Timing was everything. If Camelot could see Leon's men, so could the enemy. Wait too long to attack and their reinforcements could be dispersed. Attack too soon and their attack could be broken before Leon arrived. Arthur relied as much on gut feeling to make these decisions as he did on hard facts. Sometimes instinct, honed over a lifetime of training, was more reliable than anything else. He signalled his knights and they formed up behind him at the gates. Arthur looked up at the gatehouse and caught the guard's eye. Arthur nodded once and the guard drew his bow. The great gates began to swing open just as the fiery arrow shot out overhead, signalling the rest of Camelot's gates to open as well.

Arthur spurred his mount forward, scraping his legs against the doors as they opened. He heard the rolling hoof beats of the knights' horses following behind him. As soon as they were through the gates, the knights broke off in groups of three or four, tearing across the open ground, fanning out in half-a-dozen different directions. All around the city, knights poured from every gate at once, spreading from the city in a rapidly expanding ring. As the first fireballs rose from the trees, Arthur cried out. "CAMELOT!"

The battle cry was picked up around him and spread out like a wave. It echoed across the meadow from dozens of men. "Camelot! Camelot! Camelot!" The fireballs struck near Arthur but failed to find their mark. The heat from the explosion washed over him, only strengthening his determination. The poisonous white fog began to rise from the ground again and Arthur saw beams of radiant blue light lancing from the trees. The knights were riding hard and fast; most of the beams failed to strike anything. Most. One of the men in Arthur's group was hit by a beam. Man and horse fell to the ground; carried by their momentum they tumbled over one another. Arthur grimaced at the unmistakable, sickening sound of bones snapping.

The white mist had risen up to the horse's flanks when Arthur heard a familiar war cry rise up from the west. Leon's forces must have joined the fray, dividing the enemy's attention. The mist began to dissipate. Arthur grinned. "There's too many of us!" he crowed, "They can't fight us all!" And then they were at the forest's edge. Arthur saw movement behind a tree and signalled to the two others still riding with him. They spurred their horses around the tree from both directions and descended on the man they found on the other side. Standing on the ground, he was nearly as tall as a mounted knight, but Arthur had no time to gape. He saw the man's lips moving and golden light suffused his eyes. Arthur flew from his horse and landed hard on the ground. The knight closest to the sorcerer clutched his head and fell from his horse. The next knight swung his sword but froze mid-swing, unmoving. The strange man turned his gaze on Arthur just in time to see Arthur's sword swing down and separate his head from his body. The knight who had been frozen suddenly finished his swing, looking confused when he saw his target had already been beheaded.

The headless body fell to the ground. While Arthur watched, a golden light rose from the body and passed out of sight in the canopy of the forest. As the light left, the body dissolved into the earth, like butter melting on a hot plate. Arthur didn't bother to remount his horse. It was easier to go through the woods on foot. He began making his way through the forest. In his mind, he could see the field of combat as it might have looked to a bird. In the centre of a great clearing, surrounded on all sides by forest, sat the city of Camelot. The knights of Camelot would be sweeping through the forest from east to west making two great arcs around the castle; pinning their enemy between themselves and Leon's army. Arthur smiled grimly as he pictured a pair of blacksmiths' grips slowly squeezing together until there was no room between the jaws.

With a start, Arthur realized the forest was silent. He could hear the shouts and sounds of battle around him, but the horrible, sickening groan that had filled the air was gone.

As they continued their sweep west, Arthur met more of his knights. Some were still mounted; some were on foot. Some were injured; some were relatively unscathed. Most of the enemy appeared to have been routed by the first forays into the forest. It seemed there really hadn't been many of them. As they neared the west road, Arthur heard the unmistakable sounds of pitched combat. There were two ethereal women holding dozens of men at bay. Arthur recognized Leon in the group of knights trying to take down the two sorceresses. Adrenaline surged through his veins and Arthur ran forward. His sword ran through one of the women before she knew he was there. The second turned on him in fury, but Leon landed a blow to the side of her head with the hilt of his sword. She crumpled silently to the ground.

Golden light rose from the woman Arthur had impaled and her body disappeared into the ground. Arthur gripped Leon's arm warmly. "You are a sight for sore eyes, my friend."

Leon grinned devilishly. "I heard the prince had a bit more on his hands than he could manage. I figured it was about time I rode in to rescue his royal bum."

"Oy!" Arthur laughed. "We would've figured a way out eventually. It was just more convenient to let you take all the risk."

"Risk? I'll tell you who took all the risk: That boy of yours. He reached us in nearly three days flat."

"Merlin?" It came out more urgently than Arthur had intended, but he didn't care. "Where is he?"

Leon looked confused. "Isn't he with you?"

Arthur shook his head, not understanding. "Of course not. He went to you."

Apprehension darkened Leon's joviality. "Arthur, he left for Camelot ahead of us." Leon spoke gently. "He should've been back already."

Time seemed to freeze for Arthur and the world crashed down around him. He spoke haltingly. "He...left?" His victory, which had filled his soul with elation only moments before, seemed hollow and empty. "He left."

From the ground by his feet came a cackling laughter. Arthur looked down and saw the woman Leon had struck had regained her senses. She started to chant. "_Gymryd fy_—HRRK!"

Arthur glanced at Leon. "Hmph," he said. "She can't talk when my boot's on her throat." The woman struggled beneath his boot. Arthur's sword gently prodded her side and she lay still. "None of that," Arthur warned.

Leon looked uncomfortable. "Arthur, she's a woman."

Glaring back at Leon, Arthur spat out, "I don't even think she's human."

Leon raised his hands, backing off. He knew better than to argue with Arthur when he had that look.

Arthur looked back down at the woman. "What do you know about Merlin?" He lifted his boot from her throat ever so slightly.

"Go ahead," she rasped, "kill me. My spirit shall return to our home and find form again."

Menace dripped from every word Arthur spoke. "You may wield powerful magic, but I bet if we gag you, iron holds you as well as anyone." He saw fear rise up in her eyes. "And I'm sure, if we look hard enough, we can find some craven sorcerer who would love to get his hands on someone as powerful as you."

"You can never defeat us," she said. "As long as the boy lives, the gateway to the otherworld will stay open. You kill us here and we are reborn there, to return and fight again." She cackled with glee. "Lugus has taken the boy to our world, to ensure his well-being…and ours."

With a furious cry of rage, Arthur drove his sword down until it embedded in the ground. While the woman's body returned to the earth, her spirit lifted away into the trees. Leon spoke up. "What did she mean by that? They took Merlin to 'their world'?"

Arthur wanted to collapse. The strain of the fight and the exhaustion that follows came on him all at once. When he looked at Leon, Leon stepped back, shocked at the devastation on Arthur's face. "They came through a…a portal between worlds, from some kind of otherworld. Before they appeared, they worked some sort of magic that allowed them into our world. I think—no—I _know_ that they somehow affected Merlin with that spell. He must have been the key that allowed them to open the doorway. And now they've taken him through the portal into their world."

"Arthur, that's terrible." Leon looked horrified at Merlin's fate. Arthur had already realized what else the dying woman had told them; he waited for Leon to realize it as well. Arthur saw it on his face a moment before Leon spoke. "She said that doorway would stay open as long as Merlin was still alive. That means that, to close the doorway, Merlin has to die."

Arthur closed his eyes and set his jaw. "No." Leon hesitated, unsure what to say. "There's another way to close the gateway," insisted Arthur.

"How?"

"I don't know." Arthur could tell it was not what Leon had expected. To his everlasting credit, though, he didn't question Arthur and, instead, waited for Arthur to finish. "I don't know," he repeated, "but I refuse to believe that fate is so unfathomably cruel that there isn't another way." Arthur looked around. "Leon, gather the men; take them home. See to the wounded; retrieve the fallen. Tell the people of Camelot that they're safe."

"But as long as the doorway stays open—"

"Leon," Arthur stopped his friend, "tell the people they're safe. I'm going to make sure we don't have any wounded left out here. And, Leon, say nothing of Merlin's…of these people's use for Merlin."

"Arthur, I can't—"

"A day, Leon. Give me one day." Leon considered for a moment and nodded before leaving to carry out Arthur's orders. Arthur found his horse, which someone had retrieved for him, and mounted. As soon as he was out of sight of the other knights, he struck out on a path deeper into the eastern forest. When he found the road, he dug his heels into his mount, urging it on faster. Arthur soon saw his destination ahead of him.

The mountain loomed over him. Arthur wasn't sure if he could actually see the blue light of the doorway flickering at its peak or if it was his imagination, but he knew the doorway was up there. The journey up the mountain took less than an hour, but, to Arthur, it seemed an eternity before he finally stood in front of the strange window between worlds. For a moment he looked into the otherworld. The barren, snow-covered landscape went on as far as he could see, but now the snow was filled with tracks. There many tracks leading up to the gateway—and there was one set of tracks pointing away. One set of tracks originated just beyond where Arthur stood and dwindled into the distance.

"I don't know what to make of you, Merlin," Arthur muttered, "But I'll be damned if I'm going to leave you in their hands." He took a deep breath and stepped through the portal.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Arthur passed through the gateway to the otherworld as easily as he would through a normal doorway. Immediately, the cold began to seep into his bones. He wished he'd thought to put some padding beneath his armour before coming. The plate and mail chilled rapidly, which did not help matters. "Well," he told himself, "the best cure for cold is to work up a sweat." He began to follow the tracks that led away into the distance.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he went. It was hard going because the snow made it impossible to judge the terrain. He stumbled over unseen rocks and vegetation buried beneath the white powder. He rubbed his arms as he went, trying to work some warmth back into them. His breath vanished into the sky as puffs of vapour. From time to time, he checked his sword in its scabbard. He didn't want to find this Lugus only to discover his weapon was frozen in place. With only the tracks that went before to break the monotony of the white blanket that covered everything, it was hard to gauge distance. Turning around, Arthur looked for the doorway through which he had come. It still twinkled in the distance, closer than Arthur would have thought given the time he had been walking.

Finally, Arthur saw something new on the horizon. At first he couldn't tell what it was. At a distance, it was just a small dark lump. It could have been a hovel or an entire city or a large boulder. Whatever it was, it was something other than white snow and grey sky. It gave Arthur a target, and the tracks seemed to be heading for it as well. He pressed on with renewed determination. As he drew nearer, it began to take on shape. Arthur was able to distinguish towers, buildings, and walls. It was a castle.

Although it wasn't as large as Camelot and had no outlying city, what it lacked in size it made up for in splendour. The walls were built of a white stone, quartz perhaps, that glittered even in the dim sunlight that managed to filter in through the dark clouds. Where it caught the light, its colour changed from white to rose. The soaring spires that adorned each tower were covered in glittering gemstones of every colour. Arthur arrived at the massive gates at the front of the castle. For a moment he wasn't sure how to proceed until he saw the small wicket gate set into the larger gates had been left open.

"That reeks of a trap," Arthur said. However, trap or not, he couldn't see any other way to get inside the walls. He drew his sword and cautiously stepped through the open gate into a courtyard beyond. The courtyard was decorated lavishly with plants that seemed to not only survive the cold but thrive in it. Where Camelot would have had stone sculptures and even a fountain or two, this castle had breathtaking ice sculptures. Animals, people, and strange designs that didn't look like anything Arthur recognized populated pedestals scattered all throughout the courtyard.

Arthur couldn't see anyone in the open space, but that didn't mean there was no danger. He gingerly moved between two statues of men who seemed to be gazing up into sky. Before he got two steps past the statues, they came to life without warning. Icy fingers gripped his arms and his sword clattered to the flagstones. The statues, each holding one of his arms, hoisted him up until his feet were several inches off the ground. Arthur struggled against their grip to no avail; the statues held fast.

It wasn't long before someone appeared to collect Arthur. He felt like a beast caught in a trap, watching the mighty hunter advance on his prey, helpless to do anything. A door opened at the end of the courtyard and a woman stepped through. It was the same woman who had told Arthur where Merlin had been taken. Apparently she had been telling the truth about being reborn in her own world.

"You again! You are a tenacious one." She sounded impressed in spite of herself. "Come to slay the boy, have you? Sacrifice him to save your world?" She laughed and shook her head, causing her golden hair to swirl about in cascades around her face. She gestured to the statues holding Arthur. "You can release him." The statues dropped him to the ground. Arthur lunged for his sword but before he did, the golden-haired beauty spoke a word and he flew head over heels across the courtyard. He hit the far wall and tried to get up, but he was too dazed and fell back down again.

Another of the strange people appeared from within the castle. He spoke a brief spell and Arthur lost all feeling below his neck. His arms and legs were dead to him, useless appendages stuck to his body. The man picked up Arthur and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of rubbish. Arthur looked back at the woman as he was carried into the castle. "What, aren't you going to kill me?" he taunted.

The woman gave an elegant shrug of her shoulders. "Eventually," she replied airily. She walked with the man carrying Arthur as they moved into the castle. Rather than going up into the towers, they descended down into the earth. The light vanished as they went down several flights of stairs, but Arthur's captors remained as sure-footed as ever. They emerged into a cavern. It was almost completely dark except for two torches which illuminated a small space near the foot of the stairs. Arthur could not tell the extent of the cave because nothing was illuminated except the area around the stairs.

A man was sitting on a rough stone throne in the lit area. He wore an impressive high-collared fur cape, although Arthur thought it might have kept the man warmer if he were wearing more than a few scraps of clothing beneath the cape. The man glanced up at their approach. "What have you brought us, Blodwyn?"

"A lost mortal, my lord," replied the woman. "He followed us home," her lips pouted attractively. "May I keep him?"

The man on the throne gestured and Arthur was set down in front of the throne. Thankfully, feeling was restored to his body so he could stand under his own power. The man who had carried Arthur returned up the steps. Arthur addressed the seated man. "Are you the one called Lugus?"

Lugus ignored Arthur's question. He glared at the woman. "There's no magic in this," he indicated Arthur with a dismissive wave of his hand. "What use is it to us?"

Arthur stepped forward. "I've come to make a deal."

Lugus actually looked at Arthur for the first time. "It has a sense of humour," he said wryly. He leaned forward in his seat. "What could I possibly want from you?"

"Release the boy, Merlin. Take me in his place."

Lugus roared with laughter. The sound echoed in the recesses of the cavern. Blodwyn tittered demurely. Lugus wiped a tear from his eye and recovered himself. "You?" Scorn and derision dripped from the word.

Arthur was affronted, despite his perilous situation. "I do happen to be the crown prince of Camelot," he pointed out imperiously.

Lugus waved his hands dramatically as he mock-bowed. "Oh, excuse me, I hadn't realized. Of course, I'll trade the little kingdom's little prince for the most powerful sorcerer I've seen in aeons."

Arthur tried to process what he had heard. "What? Merlin's a…he can't be."

Lugus sat back, all humour gone. "Sweet little prince, your—what did you call him? Merlin?—your Merlin is the magical key who can restore my people. It was his blood that broke the barrier around our world, thus, it is his blood that can break the others. He's quite irreplaceable to us." He gave Arthur an appraising glance. "I think your new pet might be more trouble than he's worth, Blodwyn. Best kill it now."

Blodwyn began to advance on Arthur, but there was a grunt from somewhere in the darkness. Blodwyn froze and Lugus studied Arthur again. Arthur could practically hear the wheels turning in Lugus' head as he revaluated the situation. He motioned Blodwyn to leave, and she retreated up the staircase. "Well, well," he said, "you might be useful after all." Waving a hand in the direction of the noise Lugus intoned, "_Golau._" More torches flared to life, exposing the rest of the cavern.

"Merlin!" gasped Arthur. Merlin was, indeed, manacled to the wall of the cavern. One eye was swollen shut, the mottled flesh turning a sickly yellow colour. His lips were split in two different places and his wrists were chafed raw by the shackles holding him to cave wall. His skin was sallow and he looked even thinner than normal. A cord was pulled between his jaws and tied behind his head, preventing him from speaking. Merlin's good eye was fixed on Lugus. Arthur wanted to run to him and comfort him but he didn't think Lugus would have allowed it. "Merlin," he called again, "what have they done to you?"

"He's been less than cooperative," Lugus admitted. "But perhaps you can change that."

"You tortured him!" Arthur shouted, too angry to worry about offending Lugus.

Lugus appeared completely indifferent to Arthur's rage. "Yes. I'm surprised you didn't know; he got rather vocal about the whole affair, despite the gag. I thought you would've heard him even in your castle."

Arthur's hand flew to his mouth; he felt such an utter failure that he could barely breathe. "That sound…that sound was Merlin?" Lugus didn't answer; he didn't need to. "DAYS!" roared Arthur. "That went on for DAYS!"

"He's been _very_ uncooperative. Anyone else would have broken long ago." Lugus shrugged. "What can you do?" Arthur was so angry he couldn't speak. Lugus wasn't interested in his reply anyway. Lugus went to Merlin.

Merlin watched with his one good eye as Lugus approached. Why had Arthur come? If Arthur had simply let well-enough alone, everything would have been alright. Instead Arthur had come charging in to rescue Merlin. Merlin's mind churned, presenting scenario after scenario of likely outcomes. None of them were good. Arthur had to be saved, at any cost.

_Protect Arthur._

Lugus set a hand on Merlin's shoulder. He spoke gently, soothingly. "You don't want anything to happen to the young prince, do you Merlin?" Merlin's mind presented him with one final option. He tried to think of anything else, but logic failed him. He looked at Arthur, standing alone in the firelight. There was one scenario, a single choice that might save Arthur.

_Protect Arthur._

He could buy Arthur's life with his blood.

"Merlin?" Lugus prompted. The smile that lit Lugus' face had a knife-edge to it. "What would you do, Merlin, to keep him alive, to keep him from going through what you've been through? Would you give us a drop of blood?"

Arthur looked at him aghast. "Merlin, no! You can't! You've seen what they're like; you can't release them on the world."

_Protect Arthur._

"But keeping you alive is more important to dear Merlin than anything else in the world," Lugus declared triumphantly. "You should be flattered." With a word and a gesture Lugus released the manacles that chained Merlin. He retrieved a small, needle-sharp knife from within his cloak and placed it in Merlin's hands. "Just one drop, Merlin." Merlin held out a trembling hand and moved to prick a finger with the knife blade.

Arthur implored Merlin, "No. It's not worth it." Merlin stopped just shy of drawing blood, unsure what to do.

Lugus glanced back at Arthur. "Perhaps you're right," he said coldly. "Maybe it isn't worth it…yet." Lugus shifted slightly, moving so quickly he appeared to blur for just a second. There was a rustle of fabric, a flash of light on metal, and Arthur felt a strange tightness in his chest. Arthur couldn't understand what had happened until he saw Merlin staring at his chest. Arthur looked down at the dagger buried to the hilt in the middle of his chest. It had sliced through the chain mail like it was paper. Blood began to slowly ooze from the wound, staining the mail red. Arthur felt light-headed; he fell to his knees.

Lugus turned his attention to Merlin once more. "He's dying, Merlin, but we can save him. You know it's within our power." Merlin felt panic welling up from the depths of his soul, forcing its way into his mind with irresistible strength. He tried to force it down, to be cold and rational, but he couldn't. "One drop of blood," crooned Lugus, "and the prince lives. Or do nothing…and watch him die."

_Protect Arthur._

Merlin knew that Arthur was right. Unleashing Lugus and his people on the world was too high a price to pay for Arthur's life. Stubbornly, though, he clung to his duty. Arthur was everything; Arthur was all that mattered. Why? Why should he save Arthur at the cost of the world? What made Arthur so important?

_Protect Arthur._

Arthur had heard that, when you were about to die, you were supposed to see your life play out before your eyes and relive all the important bits before you died, but all Arthur saw was Merlin. He watched a tear well up in Merlin's eye. It clung to his eyelashes for a moment before dropping to his cheek. Another tear followed the first. When Arthur spoke, his voice was weak but strangely calm. "You're crying." He tried to smile, to comfort Merlin. "Don't cry." Merlin tried to blink back the tears but only succeeded in shedding more. "No. I wanted…" Arthur coughed and spat blood onto the floor, "to see you…smile again." His strength failed him and he collapsed on the floor of the cavern.

_Protect Arthur._

The mantra swirled around in Meriln's head taunting him, mocking him. He silently cried out, pleading for an answer. _HOW?_ Merlin could sense walls beginning to crumble in his mind. A part of himself he thought he had sealed away forever began to creep back into place. He could feel a burning fire fill his heart.

_Protect Arthur._

_WHY!?_

_Love._

Lugus was growing impatient. "Merlin, your blood."

Merlin's body lifted from the floor of the cavern into the air. Arthur tried to shout at Lugus, to tell him to stop whatever he was doing to Merlin, but he didn't have the strength. When Arthur saw the way Lugus gaped at Merlin, though, he realized Lugus wasn't doing anything. He was just as surprised as Arthur. Merlin's heart began to shine with a white radiance. Arthur watched it grow brighter. And brighter. Lugus began chanting something that Arthur couldn't make out, but it didn't make a difference. The light continued to grow brighter until Arthur couldn't watch any more. He looked away and shut his eyes, but the light still seemed to seep in through his eyes, no matter how tightly he squeezed them.

And then it was gone.

Merlin stood on the floor, next to Lugus. His wounds were gone. Once again, he looked the picture of young health. Lugus' arrogance from a moment ago was gone. He stared at Merlin in wonder and fear. "But," he stammered, "but…without speaking a spell…"

Merlin touched his gag. His eyes flared gold and the gag vanished. "It's been a long time since you walked the earth, Lugus. Things have changed."

Lugus' astonishment only lasted for a moment. His face contorted into a mask of fury and he pointed at Arthur. He snarled a spell and fire spewed from his hand toward Arthur.

Merlin held up a hand and quietly said, "_Dim_." The fire vanished before it could reach Arthur. Wearily Merlin asked, "Why? Why attack? Can't you just let us go in peace?"

Less certainly this time, Lugus held both hands out toward Merlin. Merlin made no move to stop him, only looked at him with sorrow, knowing that there would be no avoiding what was to come. Lugus spoke a word and twin shafts of blue light converged on Merlin, but the light simply washed over Merlin. Merlin stood still, waiting for Lugus to finish. When the light finally vanished, Lugus studied his hands, as though expecting to see something wrong with them. "How can a mortal stop a god?"

Merlin closed his eyes, summoning his strength. When he opened them again, they didn't simply flare gold. Gold light poured from his eyes, flowed out through his hands, radiated from his whole being. Arthur watched in wonderment as Lugus backed away. "No, you can't!" There was no mistaking the genuine fear in Lugus' voice. "If you kill us here, we'll die!" The god backed into the cavern wall and found himself unable to move any further away from Merlin. "Die? Hahahahah! Can't die!" He began to gibber unintelligibly. "Little…heheheh…little boy can't kill, hah, won't kill."

Merlin's voice seemed to come from all around them. It filled the air, came up from the ground, and resonated through the rock; Arthur felt Merlin's words as much as he heard them. "**You could have just let us go.**" The cavern began to rumble. Slabs of rock fell from overhead exposing the open sky. Arthur glimpsed the castle above crumbling into rubble. Merlin turned his back on Lugus and came to Arthur. Arthur stared, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing, much less react to it. The power streaming from Merlin formed a golden halo around him; wordlessly Merlin reached down, holding out his hand, glistening and shimmering with an ethereal aura. Arthur was suddenly afraid of the boy he'd thought he'd known so well. Surely this was some ancient god from legend, not the servant who cleaned his armour and mucked out the stables.

Arthur looked into Merlin's eyes—the glowing golden eyes that were at the heart of the maelstrom of burning magic. He looked into those eyes and he saw…Merlin. He saw friendship and kindness and sorrow and pain and worry and triumph and joy. He saw 'his' Merlin in those eyes. And he wasn't afraid.

Arthur grasped Merlin's proffered hand and Merlin pulled him to his feet. The dagger vanished from his chest and Arthur felt strength returning to his body once more. Together they gently rose into the air, lifted by forces unseen. As they rose toward the gap in the ceiling, Merlin addressed Lugus. "**For three days you held me captive. You tortured me with every tool at your disposal.**" Even though Merlin's voice was calm, his hand gripped Arthur's so tightly that it hurt. "**For three days, I sought every tiny scrap of energy I could find: Every moth that flew too close to a flame, every sparrow caught by a hawk, the countless tiny lives in the earth itself, every soldier who died to free Camelot. As those lives ended, I took their energy for my own. Now I'm using it.**"

Lugus started to shout an angry reply. The rumbling grew louder and sharp stalactite fell from the ceiling; it flew straight and true and hit Lugus' upturned face. It was travelling so fast, it didn't stop until it had cleaved the god in two halves and shattered on the floor below. As Merlin and Arthur rose into the open air, they saw a golden light seep out of the body and fade from existence.

Arthur gaped at Merlin. "Did you do that?"

"I gave it a little help," Merlin shrugged and flashed that cheeky grin of his. "It was falling anyways."

At the sight of Merlin's smile, Arthur couldn't stop the smile on his own face. They rose high into the air over the rapidly decaying ruins of the once beautiful castle. As rooms collapsed and roofs fell, Arthur glimpsed yellow light oozing out of the rubble here and there before it dissipated into nothingness. One by one the Tuatha de Dannann died, never to rise again. The castle continued its rapid descent into ruin. Boulders became rocks which became gravel which became dust. Wood decayed and soon vanished into soil. Snow blew across the land and began to cover the earth with a seamless blanket of whiteness.

Merlin lowered them to the ground just outside what had been the gates of Lugus' castle. The castle had completely vanished. There wasn't even any rubble. Arthur looked around, but there was nothing that distinguished the site of the ground from any other patch of ground. Merlin's golden aura dimmed and then faded. He didn't let go of Arthur's hand, though. "Arthur!" there was panic in Merlin's voice. "That was everything I had. The spell's been undone—I can't work blood magic anymore!"

"I think we'll be okay, Merlin. I'm pretty sure they won't be giving us any more trouble, thanks to you."

"You don't understand. The gateway, Arthur! It's closing!" Merlin started to run in the direction of the portal which would take them back to their own realm, dragging Arthur by the hand.

Arthur ran alongside Merlin. "How do you know?"

Merlin gave Arthur his you're-such-a-prat look. "Trust me. Talk later. Run now!" He let go of Arthur's hand and began running faster.

Arthur decided to do as he was told. He was surprised Merlin was able to keep up with him so readily. All things being equal, Arthur was the faster runner. But he was wearing heavy armour, and Merlin was surprisingly quick. Merlin called from beside him, "Hope you don't mind the cold." Before Arthur could ask what he meant, he heard Merlin again. "_Dod __â'r gwynt!_" A fierce wind blew up behind them. The wind whipped around him, turning the cold colder. Ice crystals and snow stung Arthur's face as they were whipped up from the ground. However, Arthur also felt the forceful tailwind helping to drive them on to their goal.

With the wind behind them, they ran even faster, covering more than a yard with each step. Despite the urgency of their situation, Arthur found it exhilarating. Without breaking stride, he leapt into the air, allowing the wind to carry him several yards before his foot struck ground again. He pushed off again, leaping even farther than before this time. Half running, half leaping across the ground, he threw back his head and laughed. He heard Merlin's laughter join his own and looked back to see Merlin in mid-air at the peak of a leap.

Merlin gave a shout when he spied the portal. From a distance, Arthur could already see it was smaller than it had been when he'd entered the otherworld. The edges seemed to be blurring and losing definition. Even as they neared their goal, though, Arthur knew it was hopeless. The doorway was shrinking too quickly. Arthur looked back, calling out over the wind, "We won't make it!"

They came to a stop. The wind faded. In a voice heavy with remorse, Merlin said, simply, "I know." Merlin reached up and clasped his hands behind Arthur's neck, pulling him close, and pressed his lips to Arthur's. Arthur blinked in surprise, too shocked to realize what was happening before Merlin had pulled away; the kiss only lasted a moment before Merlin broke it. Arthur was shocked to see tears in his friend's eyes. "Arthur, I'm sorry."

Arthur tenderly brushed the tears out of Merlin's eyes. "It's alright."

"No," Merlin replied. "I'm sorry for this." He shoved Arthur away and Arthur saw the gold light in his eyes.

Arthur realized what was happening a split second too late. "You can't!" The wind rose again, even stronger than before, and Arthur flew through the air, carried by the wind and by Merlin, so fast that he felt pain shooting up from his hands and feet as his blood was forced to his extremities. His last glimpse of Merlin was of the boy smiling through his tears, confident that his prince would survive. The air whipped by so fast that Arthur could hardly draw a breath; dark spots started to swim in front of his eyes. Then he hurtled through the gateway and hit the ground, and it was over as quickly as it had begun. Arthur got to his feet and ran to the portal, but it had already shrunk too much for him to pass back through. The sun began to ease the cold from Arthur's body but he hardly noticed.

"No!" he screamed. "NO!" Arthur could see Merlin far off in the snow. Merlin watched the shimmering blue light contracting ever smaller, sealing him away from his beloved Arthur. In the bright sunlight of Albion, Arthur watched helplessly as the gateway diminished. Now it was less than a foot across, then six inches, then the size of an apple. Before it could close forever, Arthur scrambled to his feet. He shouted through as loudly as he could. His voice echoed across the barren otherworld and down into the forest of Camelot. "I LOVE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME, MERLIN? I LOVE YOU, AND I WILL FIND A WAY TO GET YOU BACK!"

The gateway was only a pinhole. The edges shimmered as they contracted; they seemed to glow a bit brighter. No, they were definitely glowing brighter, and they had stopped shrinking. The tiny pinprick in the fabric of the universe refused to shut. The portal tried to squeeze closed, but something was pushing back against it. The blue light of the gateway started to burn orange. Arthur couldn't believe what he was seeing. A strange sensation began to grow in his chest; it was as if he could feel the beating of another heart echoing his own. He fell to his knees and stared in awe at the orange light burning around the hole between worlds.

Arthur realized what he had just said. "I love him," he said again. He hadn't actually admitted it until just then, not even to himself. The light around the portal burned brighter. "I love Merlin." Slender, shimmering threads snaked out of the light and began to weave around the edges of the rift. The gateway was forced open just a little bit larger. He watched with mounting hope as the threads wove themselves into a glimmering rope, slowly pushing the gateway wider and wider. He laughed aloud when more strands of light began to appear, each one forcing the aperture open a little bit more.

"Arthur!" The sound of Merlin's voice made joy soar in Arthur's heart. The doorway blew open with a burst of light. Merlin was standing in the snow on the other side. The glow of the gateway bathed both of them in light.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "Merlin! How are you doing that?"

Merlin looked just as amazed as Arthur. "I'm not," he laughed, "It's something else." He put a hand over his heart and his face lit up with wonder; Arthur knew whose heartbeat was echoing alongside his own. "I can feel…" Merlin's voice trailed off and he looked at Arthur.

"Merlin, I may have neglected to mention back there that I love you very, very much."

Merlin stepped through the gateway into the sunlight and replied, with a perfectly straight face, "Well, that's lovely, then. Good for you." Arthur smacked the back of Merlin's head and Merlin laughed. "And I love you, too," he added. The portal snapped shut, closing Albion off from the otherworld for good. Arthur's heart felt strangely empty when the strange echo-heartbeat faded away.

"You were right, you know," Merlin said.

"About what?"

Merlin stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Arthur's. "Everything is beautiful up here," he murmured. Arthur folded Merlin into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Arthur didn't let go of Merlin when their lips finally parted. "So," he said slowly, "you have magic." Arthur could feel Merlin tense in his arms.

"Arthur, I wanted to tell you so many times, but I just never could."

"I imagine it will make things rather complicated."

Merlin stepped out of Arthur's embrace. His gaze dropped to the ground. "I can leave," he said in a tremulous voice, "find someplace new."

Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think I can let you do that."

Merlin's head snapped up. "Arthur! You wouldn't!"

"Arrest you? Of course, not! But, if you left, I'd have to follow you, and can you imagine Father's reaction if I told him I was leaving Camelot? He'd blow his top. It'd be better all 'round if you stayed here."

Merlin smiled shyly. "You'd really come with me if I left?"

"Merlin, after the month we've had, I never intend to let you out of my sight again." Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Alright," Arthur admitted, "'never' might be a bit unrealistic, but it's going to be some time before I let you go anywhere without me." Arthur's voice softened as he went on, "And, if you ever have to leave Camelot, you can be certain I'll be following, whether you want me to or not." The smile that lit Merlin's face was possibly the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever seen.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The journey back to Camelot was over all too soon for Arthur's liking. Alone in the woods, Arthur and Merlin were just two people in love with none of the distractions that awaited them back home to get in the way. Arthur savoured the time with Merlin; they talked about everything and anything. Neither one of them minded that Arthur had only brought one horse and Merlin had to share the saddle with Arthur. Arthur held the reigns in one hand and wrapped his free arm around Merlin, who settled back against Arthur's chest. Merlin finally told Arthur what had happened the night he had cast the changing spell and why he had been acting so strangely ever since. It wasn't easy for Merlin to explain or for Arthur to hear, but was cathartic to finally have it out in the open.

When they returned to the castle, they were, of course, taken straight to Uther. The king was cross with Arthur for taking such a risk to rescue a servant, but he was somewhat mollified when he learned that bringing Merlin back from the otherworld had closed the doorway between realms. At least, that was how Arthur told it. Poor Gaius looked like his eyebrows were going to lift right off his face. There would be many questions from Gaius, Arthur knew, but not here. Those would wait until they were away from prying ears.

Once everything had been explained to Uther's satisfaction, Arthur and Merlin were whisked off to Gaius' tower. "I should check to make sure they are alright, Sire," Gaius had said to Uther, "we don't know what effect this otherworld may have had on them." Explaining what happened to Gaius was a little easier than explaining to Uther, largely because Arthur didn't have to lie about Merlin's involvement in things. Initially, Gaius was alarmed to learn that Arthur had discovered Merlin's secret. Although once he realized that Arthur wasn't planning to haul Merlin to the dungeon or tell Uther, he seemed to accept the new situation with remarkable ease.

Granted, they didn't tell the complete truth. Although they hadn't spoken about it beforehand, they seemed to share an understanding that what had happened at the gateway was theirs and theirs alone; neither one of them mentioned it. They didn't share what had happened between them or why Merlin had cast the changing spell to begin with, but Arthur had a feeling Gaius understood more than was being said. He accepted the gaps in their story without comment, declining to probe for more information or pepper them with more questions, which was entirely out of character.

Finally, at long, long last, Arthur and Merlin returned to Arthur's chambers and they were alone once more. Merlin busied himself putting away Arthur's gear, and, much to Merlin's surprise, Arthur helped. After stowing Arthur's tack, they began to tidy the room, which had fallen into disarray during Merlin's absence. Once in a while, one of them broke the silence with a comment or a jibe, but neither one said very much. They worked together in a comfortable silence partly because they were exhausted but also because they were content simply to enjoy each other's company. When Arthur's chambers were back in order, Merlin began helping Arthur get ready for bed. Arthur couldn't help but feel satisfied when he slid out of his shirt and Merlin blushed to the tips of his ears.

Arthur reached out and flicked one of Merlin's bright red ears. "You never did that before," he joked.

"You didn't know how I felt before." Despite his embarrassment, Merlin didn't flinch away from Arthur's gaze. Arthur laughed and tossed his shirt at Merlin's face. Without thinking, Merlin deflected it with a quick spell. Arthur saw the flash of gold in his eyes, and the shirt abruptly changed direction and landed on his bed.

Arthur stared at Merlin, wide-eyed. "You know, that's going to take some getting used to."

"Doesn't my magic bother you at all?" Merlin tried to sound casual, but Arthur could hear concern underneath his question.

"I wasn't aware I got pick and choose which parts of you I love. I can't pretend to know much about it, but I always thought love was rather a package deal: All or nothing sort of thing."

"Arthur, aren't you afraid that this—what you feel—isn't real? Hasn't it crossed your mind that I might've cast some sort of love spell?"

"Actually, yes," Arthur admitted. Before Merlin could protest, Arthur went on, "While you were gone, I thought maybe I was just confused, and, yes, I thought perhaps I had been bewitched." Arthur looked Merlin square in the eye to make sure he had his full attention before continuing. "When you sent me through the gateway, knowing you couldn't get through yourself, you were trying to keep me safe; I get that. But when I realized you were trapped on the other side, away from me…" Arthur's voice trembled, "Oh, Merlin, I thought my world had ended. I don't have words for what I felt."

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I just couldn't—"

"Don't be sorry." Arthur cupped Merlin's face in his hands. "That was when I knew, with absolute certainty, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that what I felt for you was real, and it didn't matter that you had magic or that Father won't approve or any of that." Arthur took one of Merlin's hands in each of his and placed one hand on Merlin's chest and one on his own. "Merlin, can you feel our hearts beating?" Merlin nodded. "The love that's shared between those hearts has literally changed the world. How many people can say that? Our love ripped a hole in the world and brought you back to me. That's no magical infatuation; that's true love, older and more powerful than magic."

Merlin grinned. "You've been talking to Gaius."

Arthur shrugged, "Well, he was right." In softer voice, he added, "And I will be eternally grateful that he was." Merlin's ears turned, if it were possible, an even brighter red than before. He picked up Arthur's shirt and took it into the other room, tossing it into a bag with the rest of the laundry. Arthur sat down on the edge of his bed.

When Merlin came back into the room, he only hesitated a moment before leaning down and tipping up Arthur's chin in order to press a kiss to his lips. Merlin started to move toward the door. "Good night, then," he said rather awkwardly.

"Merlin," Arthur's voice was low and husky. Merlin froze in his tracks. "Didn't I say I didn't want you out of my sight?"

Merlin grinned sheepishly. "I didn't know that meant _all_ the time."

Arthur stood up and crossed over to Merlin. "I won't force you, but I thought, um, perhaps," uncertainty wavered in his voice, "that you might _want_ to stay."

Merlin trailed his fingers across Arthur's bare chest, running them across the well-defined muscles. There was something irresistibly adorable about Arthur's nervousness. "I wouldn't complain."

Arthur kissed Merlin's forehead. "That would be a change."

Merlin glared at him. For about two seconds. Then Merlin kissed him; this time it was no timid good-night kiss. Merlin slid his arms around Arthur's waist and pulled him tight. His lips parted eagerly in response to Arthur's questing tongue. Arthur tried to move them slowly toward the bed, but Merlin, predictably, tripped over Arthur's feet. Arthur easily caught Merlin in his arms before he hit the floor.

"Sorry," apologized Arthur, "didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know." Merlin looked up into Arthur's face and smiled; he lightly tapped the tip of Arthur's nose with a finger. "You would never hurt me."

Arthur caught Merlin's hand and pressed it to his lips. "Never," he agreed, "that's a promise." He scooped Merlin off his feet, cradling him in his arms, and carried him to the bed. He lay Merlin down on the soft covers and stretched out beside him, propping himself up on an elbow. He undid Merlin's neckerchief and planted a kiss in the hollow of his neck. "Now, where were we?" Merlin put a hand under Arthur's chin and lifted Arthur's mouth to his own. "Mm, that's right," Arthur murmured, "now I remember."

While they kissed, Arthur began to slowly lift Merlin's shirt, working it up a little bit at a time until Merlin raised his arms over his head and Arthur slid the shirt off, exposing Merlin's ivory skin. Arthur drank in the beauty below him, staring unashamedly.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"Mm?" Arthur didn't look up.

"How exactly is this going to work?"

Arthur gave Merlin an incredulous look. "Have you never learned, um, I mean…don't you know how to, uh, fulfil your manly duties?"

"Of course I do, you prat. With two men, I mean. How does that work?"

Arthur's hand slid down Merlin's abdomen and slipped inside his trousers, wrapping around Merlin's throbbing manhood. Merlin drew in a loud shuddering breath and threw his head back. Arthur lightly nipped at the exposed flesh of his neck. "I'm not sure," he said, hooking one of his legs over Merlin's and pulling them together until Merlin could feel the hardness pressing through Arthur's breeches against his leg. "But I think," Arthur pushed Merlin's trousers down slightly, freeing Merlin's erection, which flipped up against his stomach with a loud thwack, "I think we'll figure it out as we go." He caressed Merlin's member, running a thumb gently over the head. "Does that sound alright?"

"I think," Merlin gasped again, "I think—oh, gods, Arthur!—I think it'll do."

- x - x - x - x - x -

When Arthur woke the next morning, the sky outside was just beginning to turn dusky pink. He looked over at Merlin, who was sleeping with his back to Arthur, and smiled contentedly at his memories of the night before. Arthur decided it wouldn't hurt to sleep a bit longer this morning and slid across the bed to Merlin. When Arthur lightly draped an arm over his lover's slumbering form, Merlin shifted in his sleep, backing up against Arthur. Arthur closed his eyes.

Years of rising with the sun, however, made a hard habit to break and Arthur didn't fall back to sleep. Arthur opened his eyes and watched Merlin sleeping in his arms. He decided he didn't care if he ever slept again as long he could keep holding Merlin. Eventually, the sun rose high enough to shine in Merlin's eyes and Arthur felt him stir. Merlin's eyes fluttered open and focused on the arm wrapped around his torso. He smiled and rolled his head back so he could see Arthur. "Good morning," Arthur said.

Merlin stretched back so he could peck Arthur's cheek. "Yes," he replied, "it is." Merlin turned over to face Arthur and noticed the rest of the room. Arthur's tables and chairs were overturned; baubles that had been on Arthur's desk were strewn across the floor. The canopy had somehow been pulled down from above the bed and tossed aside. Merlin spied his own clothes here and there amongst the mess. His eyes went wide. "Were you robbed?"

"Still worried about thieves, Merlin?" Arthur looked down at him fondly. "No, the only thief here last night was a certain wizard who stole my heart. I'm afraid you and I are responsible for the devastation you see before you."

"Good night," Merlin breathed in astonishment.

"Yes," Arthur said, grinning devilishly, "it was."

"That's not what I meant," Merlin retorted. A smile slowly spread across his features. "But, yeah, it really was."

Arthur laughed. "It's going to be a pain to clean up—"

Merlin laid a finger across Arthur's lips. "Silly Prince." He swept an arm around in a grand gesture. "_Lle i bopeth, a phopeth yn ei le._" The mess began to clean itself up. Chairs righted themselves, knick-knacks found their places on shelves and tables, clothes folded themselves and flew to their places, and the canopy slithered up a bed post and put itself back in place.

Arthur contemplated the freshly ordered room. "I'm beginning to see how there might be some perks to your abilities."

Merlin feigned indignation. "Oh? So that little spell I used last night was just a perk? You know, when I—"

Arthur pulled Merlin tighter against him and silenced him with a kiss. "No, Love, that spell you used last night was much," Arthur kissed him again, "_much_ more than a perk." Arthur glanced out the window at the sunrise. "And, much as I would love to stay here with you all day, we really do need to get up." Arthur reluctantly released Merlin from his embrace and, tossing the covers back, stood up from the bed. The sunlight streaming in the window gently warmed his skin. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he arched his back and stretched. Behind him, he heard Merlin make a noise halfway between a whimper and a sigh.

Arthur looked down at himself. "Perhaps some clothes are in order." Merlin made a disapproving sound. "Really, Merlin," laughed Arthur, "we don't have time." Arthur went over to his wardrobe and opened the doors. He went to his chest of drawers and pulled the drawers open. "Merlin," his voice was carefully controlled. "Where are my clothes?" His wardrobe and chest were both completely empty.

Arthur looked back at Merlin. Merlin was sprawled across the bed on his back with his head hanging off the edge so that he was looking at Arthur upside down. The blankets had slid down to his waist and Arthur had to suppress a spark of desire at the sight of Merlin basking in the morning sun. "Well?" Arthur repeated. Merlin cocked his head to the side but still didn't respond. That is, he didn't say anything, but Arthur couldn't help noticing the growing bulge in blankets just below Merlin's waist. Arthur tried to order Merlin to return his clothes, but he just couldn't get out the words.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stay in a little bit longer." Merlin smiled and his eyes twinkled for a moment. The blanket slid down onto the floor, exposing Merlin's lithe body. Arthur gulped. "Merrrrrrr…" his voice trailed into nothingness. Arthur closed his eyes and tried again. "Merlin," he spoke very slowly and deliberately, "I need to send word to Father that I will be unable to attend to my duties this morning. Since nothing short of the castle falling down around us is going to make me ask you to leave that bed, I need to go find someone else to take a message to Father. For that, I need clothing. And," Arthur gestured at his member, which was beginning to stiffen in spite of Arthur's efforts to prevent it, "I really can't go out like this."

There was rustling of fabric and then Merlin said, "Alright, you can open your eyes."

Arthur slowly opened his eyes. Merlin was sitting up in his bed with the covers wrapped around himself. When he turned around, Arthur found all the clothes in their proper places in his wardrobe. He pulled out a robe and closed it around himself. He went to the bed and kissed the top of Merlin's head. "I'll just be a moment." Arthur opened the bedroom door and stuck his head out into the corridor. No one seemed to be around, but, just then, Gwen came around a corner. "Gwen!" Arthur called. Fortunately, his bed was hidden from view, behind the door.

Gwen came to his door, all smiles. "I heard the good news, I'm so glad everything turned out alright. Merlin _is_ alright, isn't he? Back to his old self?"

"Quite returned to normal, yes," Arthur felt his cheeks burning. "Better than before, in fact."

"That's good to hear." Arthur could tell she meant it.

"Listen, Gwen, can you get a message to my father? The fatigue of the past day has caught up with me. I'm not feeling up to much today; I think it's best if I stay in."

"Can't Merlin take the message for you?" Gwen inquired, the picture of innocence.

Arthur put on his best serious-prince face. "Merlin has endured much more than I have," he pointed out. "I insist he stays in bed until he feels up to returning to his duties." At that moment, Merlin sneezed. Loudly. Arthur didn't miss a beat. "But he never listens to me, does he? He showed up bright and early this morning before collapsing at my feet with exhaustion." Gwen gave Arthur a suspicious look, staring pointedly at his unkempt hair, his robe, and his bare feet. "Really," Arthur insisted, "he fainted dead away, like a girl."

"And, of course, you thought the strain of returning to his own room would just be too much," Gwen said solemnly. "Best to keep him in your own bed."

"Exactly," Arthur agreed.

"Right, and I'm the queen of Camelot," she added sarcastically.

"Oh! Your majesty," Arthur enthused, "I didn't know. Congratulations! I'm sure you and my father will be very happy together. Shall I call you Mum?"

"You could, but I don't think Merlin will be very happy when I cut off your—"

"Alright, alright, you win!" Arthur heard strangled sounds coming from his bed. Glancing behind his door, he saw Merlin turning red and holding a pillow over his mouth in an effort not to laugh. Arthur turned back to Gwen and bowed low. "Guinevere, may I trouble you to take a message to my father?"

"I could, if you wish. Funny thing, though, Gaius already told your father that you were feeling ill after your daring rescue. Apparently, you need a day of uninterrupted bed rest."

Arthur put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. "I suppose you needn't worry about my message, then."

"Of course, Arthur. If there's nothing else?" Arthur shook his head. "Very well. I'll have the kitchen send up some breakfast." With that, she was gone.

Arthur closed the door and returned to Merlin, now quite recovered from his fit of laughter. "Laughing at the prince, Merlin? That's a punishable offense."

Merlin, who had allowed the covers to slip back down to his waist, watched as Arthur slowly undid the robe and let it fall to the floor. This time Arthur made no effort to stop the hardness rapidly growing between his legs. "What sentence is usually proscribed for such a heinous crime?" asked Merlin.

Arthur crawled back into bed covering Merlin with butterfly kisses starting at his naval, moving up to his chest, his neck, and finally his mouth. "In these sorts of cases," he said when his lips were disentangled from Merlin's, "the punishment is up to the offended party."

"Then I've no choice but to place myself entirely at your mercy." Merlin rolled over so he was straddling Arthur. Arthur's manhood rubbed tantalizingly in the cleft between Merlin's buttocks. "At your mercy today," Merlin leaned down and kissed Arthur, "always," he shifted his hips back and reached between his legs to guide Arthur inside himself, Arthur closed his eyes in ecstasy as he slid into Merlin, "and forever."


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Merlin stared out across the lake of Avalon lost in his musings. A burst of birdsong from a nearby tree startled him out of his reverie. Merlin glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly six in the evening. "Good heavens, have I been standing out here all day? My feet are going to be sore tomorrow," he grumbled good-naturedly and waggled an accusing finger out at the lake, "I hope you realize that." A warm smile softened his expression. "And it's a small price to pay for spending a day with you.

It would be dark soon. Merlin knew he should be heading back to town, but he wasn't quite ready to leave. "I suppose I can keep going on my own for a while longer. When it's time for you to come back, I shall be here." He put a hand over his heart. "Until then."

As Merlin turned to leave, something in the water caught his eye. He looked into the lake, and the years melted away from his reflection until he looked as young as he had the first day he set foot in Camelot so long ago. The ears that poked out from the tangled mop of black hair would have seemed oversized if not for the cheeky smile, which was so large that the ears seemed necessary to balance his face. The clouds in the overcast sky parted and the water caught the sun for just a moment. The sparkling sunlight flashed over his reflection's heart and across its smiling lips before the clouds closed again and the reflection was once more an old man.

"I shall ever love you, my once and always friend."

* * *

**(Lengthy) Author's Note:**

First, let me say, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it (except, perhaps, for Chapters 2 & 3—those buggers gave me no end of grief and I'm still not entirely happy with them, but I digress). Thanks for sticking with me to the end. Secondly, the story's done. If you're hoping for more, I'm sorry, but I'm all out (for now). However, I want to ramble for a little bit if you don't mind. If you're not interested, then feel free to go look for more stories; you won't miss any extra, post-epilogue narrative.

I actually started writing this story before the series ended. Originally I hadn't planned any kind of prologue or epilogue. The story was going to start with Merlin casting the spell on the mountaintop. Something rather odd happened, though: I never finished watching Series 5. I had watched every Merlin episode as soon as it aired, right from the beginning, but I knew that the end of Series 5 would be emotional and dramatic, and I couldn't quite face up to it. The last episode I watched was episode 9, "With All My Heart." In the months prior, The Doctor had lost Amy and Rory, the Crawleys had lost Sybil, Sixsmith had lost Frobisher…you get the point. At the end of "With All My Heart," everyone was alive and well and as happy as could be expected under the circumstances, and I didn't want to let go of that happy moment. I know they're all fictional characters but sometimes even fictional tragedy can grip one's heart; that's the power of a good story. So I kept putting off finishing Series 5.

While I hung in limbo, so to speak, I stopped writing this story as well. I couldn't bring myself to finish the story without finishing the show, but I kept finding reasons to put off finishing the show. Cut to nearly eight months later when I found the first couple of chapters on my hard drive and decided the story needed finishing. I finally buckled down and watched the last four episodes. After I'd finished "The Diamond of the Day," finished crying my eyes out, blown my nose, and put myself back together (I ran out of tissues halfway through part two—naturally, pausing to run to the store and get more was out of the question, so you can imagine how I must have looked), I had to admit that the series ending was handled beautifully.

The last message of hope and optimism for the future was unexpectedly powerful. I wanted to be upset that Arthur died, wanted to hate the writers for putting me through it, but keeping Arthur alive would have robbed the ending of that message. So I sat down and worked out my emotions on my keyboard, writing a quick page-long blurb that tried to encapsulate some of what I felt after finishing the show.

When I prepared to post this story, I wanted to include some sort of tip-of-the-hat, some kind of tribute, to that wonderful optimism which closed the series. I went back to my little blurb and tweaked it a bit, so I could graft it on to _Blood Magic _to bookend the story. It became the prologue and epilogue for _Blood Magic_. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry if it doesn't flow nicely from the prologue to the story proper and back to the epilogue. It's a little crunchy, a little forced, a little self-indulgent. Maybe it's unnecessary—an irrelevant bit tacked on as an afterthought, but I needed to write it, and I'm glad I did. Call it an author's conceit. No, strike that. Call it a geek's conceit. Sometimes my inner author has to take a back seat to my inner geek, and, after finishing Merlin, my inner geek is feeling decidedly sentimental.


End file.
